Ilfirin Meleth
by Anoron
Summary: BtVS/LOTR crossover. *COMPLETE* Dawn/Legolas. AU version of 'the Gift'- Dawn finds herself in Middle-Earth where she encounters some strange people, namely, the Fellowship. Chapter 18 up!
1. Chapter 1: Portals and Pointy Ears

DISCLAIMER: Goes for every chapter- Joss Whedon owns Dawn and all things from Buffy, and JRR Tolkein owns everything Middle-Earth-ish. Also references to works owned by Robert Frost and Aerosmith in later chapters.  
  
Rated R for some violence, swearing and sex scenes, but it's not too terrible, I promise!  
  
A/N: Mixture of both book and movie-verse of LOTR. Very AU as far as the Buffy timeline goes, Dawn is 18, but starts with a variation of 'The Gift' because I always believed that if Death was Buffy's gift, it was a gift she could've given to Dawn if she wanted, because Dawn doesn't really belong in the world. The events of the series are warped so that whilst a lot of the Glory stuff happened Season 5, when Dawn is 14, it doesn't come to a head until four years later. In the meantime, Buffy died facing the First and was brought back, instead of jumping from the tower & Willow resurrecting her, and Tara never died because I couldn't bear to do it to her. Giles never left, either. A lot of that isn't important to the story, it just helps it make a little more sense if you see the universe for this story through my warped eyes, I guess. Enjoy, R&R as well! ~Anoron  
  
Ilfirin Meleth  
Buffy and Dawn stood atop the tower, watching the walls between realities rip. They were both crying silently.  
Dawn softly spoke. "I understand so clearly now."  
Buffy looked at her, sniffling. "What?"  
"That it had to come to this- it's supposed to end this way."  
"What way? The end of the world!?" Buffy burst out.  
Dawn's voice was still calm and soft, her eyes staring straight ahead. "No. Not the end of the world."  
It suddenly dawned on the twenty-four year old what her younger sister was saying. "Dawny, no! I won't let you!"  
Finally Dawn turned to Buffy. "This is the way it was meant to be." Buffy was shaking her head, but Dawn continued anyway. "I don't belong here, Buffy. I never belonged, even when you made me feel like I did. But I have to go now. I'll miss you, and I will always love you. Thank you for being my sister. But we both have our own paths to take now. You'll find your way, and so will I. Goodbye, Buffy."  
With a final kiss to her sister's cheek, Dawn turned and took a running dive from the tower's platform.  
"Dawny," Buffy choked out in a whisper before crumpling in a heap, her body wracked with sobs.  
Dawn closed her eyes. The air around her felt warm, she could feel the crackling of the portal.  
Suddenly, the air was crisp and cool. She hit a surface hard, and felt no more.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Aragorn!" Boromir called as, with Frodo struggling wildly in his arms, he made his way towards the exit of Moria. Refocusing himself, Aragorn followed, dodging Orc arrows as he went.  
Once the Fellowship reached the open sky, they halted on the snow dusted rocks, overcome with grief.  
The Hobbits were in tears, Boromir was straining with all his might to stop Gimli from charging back into the certain death of the mines. Legolas wandered in a daze, bewildered by Gandalf's fall. Suddenly, his sharp eye caught a flash of purple against the deep grey of rock, and he went to investigate. What he saw when he looked down only added to his confusion.  
There, crumpled on the unforgiving ground, was a very pretty young woman in a strange purple dress, trimmed with gold and black. She was unconscious, but breathing, and her face was an alarmingly pale shade. Legolas noticed a gash on her forehead, probably from where she had hit the rock and rolled over.  
Furthermore, there were multiple tears in her dress, slashed with a knife that had slit the delicate skin below. She was covered in dried blood.  
Aragorn, like the others, had not noticed the girl. He stood nearby, cleaning the Orc blood from his sword with deliberate strokes.  
"Aragorn," Legolas quietly called him over.  
Aragorn came to stare at the girl. He shot his Elven friend a bewildered look.  
"She yet lives. Though I don't know how," the Elf said.  
The Ranger noted the gash on her face. "By the wound on her face, I'd say that she fell. But from where?" he asked, looking into the empty sky.  
Legolas nodded his agreement. "Yes, but what do you make of these other cuts?"  
By now the rest of the Fellowship had come to investigate. They crowded around the unconscious form. Legolas knelt and held the backs of his fingers to her cheek.  
"She is icy cold!" he exclaimed in a worried tone. He was just about to remove his cloak and cover her over when she began to stir. They all started in surprise.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn shifted uncomfortably and groaned. She wasn't sure where she was, or what was happening, but she thought she'd just felt a hand on her face. She tried to think, but it hurt too much.  
She felt a heavy lump rising in her throat and managed to somehow roll to her side before she was overcome with a fit of coughing. Dawn could feel the blood spewing from her mouth, and became dimly aware of the gasps of horror surrounding her.  
Then a hand was on her shoulder, a cloth over her mouth to wipe away the blood.  
"My Lady?" a gentle voice whispered.  
Dawn forced her eyes to open. The glare of the sun was too much for her and she snapped her eyes closed with a hoarse cry.  
She didn't protest as she was pulled into a sitting position, a flask put to her lips. She swallowed what water she could, and this time tried a little more successfully to open her eyes.  
As Dawn felt a little strength returning to her, she found herself staring at eight of the strangest men she'd ever laid eyes on, even after all her years on the Hellmouth. She tried to speak, but only managed to make a few surprised sounds.  
The one holding onto her, with the long blond hair, dark blue eyes and pointy ears, shushed her. "Easy, my Lady. You have taken grievous injury and must rest."  
"Legolas, we must move on. By nightfall this place will be swarming with Orcs," one of the men reminded him.  
At last Dawn spoke. She had been staring at Legolas. "Your ears are pointy," she blurted.  
The Hobbits stifled giggles and Legolas looked at her, his expression surprised but his eyes twinkling with amusement.  
"I am an Elf, my Lady."  
In her shock, Dawn began to cough violently once more. Legolas hurried to hold the cloth to her mouth again. When she was quiet, and had taken another sip of water, he spoke again.  
"I am Legolas, of the Woodland realm," he quickly introduced the rest of the Fellowship. Dawn smiled weakly at them.  
"Hi... I'm Dawn Summers," she replied.  
"We must move. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien," Aragorn insisted once more.  
"Can you walk, Lady Dawn?" Legolas asked, still kneeling beside her.  
"I hope so," she muttered and began to pull herself up with the aid of Boromir and Legolas. Half way to her feet, something occurred to Dawn.  
"Hey! Where am I?"  
"On the eastern side of the Mines of Moria, my Lady." Gimli answered gruffly. He was still enraged that the Mines had been left to ruin.  
"Yu-huh. And what world am I in?" she asked simply.  
They all stared at her as if she was insane.  
"Your injury must have affected you more gravely than we first thought," Aragorn decided, reaching out to hold Dawn's face so he could closer study her wound.  
Dawn pulled away. "Just answer the question."  
"You're in Middle-Earth, of course," Pippin spoke as if Dawn was an imbecile. She stared at him blankly, adding to his suspicions.  
She drew in a shaky breath and felt her legs collapsing beneath her. Legolas, still holding her elbow from helping her up, caught Dawn easily and lifted her up in his arms.  
"Thanks," Dawn breathed, a little embarrassed.  
The Fellowship began the journey to Lothlorien, Dawn still being carried by Legolas. She quickly took in Legolas' fine features and smothered a smile as she felt his strong arms around her. This was definitely better than being paralysed by a creepy demon and dragged by her arms through the woods in Sunnydale by Buffy and Xander.  
At the memory of her family so far away, a small, sad sigh escaped Dawn's lips. Legolas looked at her, concerned.  
"Are you all right, my Lady?" he asked.  
She forced a smile in response. "Yeah, I'm good. But do you think you could put me down? Please?"  
Legolas looked doubtful at her request. He did not think her fit to travel at the pace Aragorn was setting. "My Lady, I do not think it wise. You are weak and unwell. I should not like for you to fall behind."  
"Well," Dawn huffed, taking offence to being called weak. "Nobody seems to mind that Frodo and Sam have fallen behind, do they Mr. Pointy Eared freak!"  
Legolas stopped dead in his tracks and swung around, ignoring Dawn's childish insult. Dawn instinctively clung to him tighter at the sudden movement. Seeing that Frodo and Sam had indeed fallen quite a ways behind the others, Legolas sighed and set Dawn on her feet. He went and spoke to Aragorn, who immediately called a halt. Then he and Boromir made their way back up the track to carry Frodo and Sam down to where the group was waiting.  
Dawn was busy practising standing and walking back and forth without looking as shaky as she felt on her legs. She was contemplating giving in and allowing the incredibly hot Elf to carry her some more when her roving gaze met the curious stares of Merry and Pippin.  
Unabashed, they continued to stare at the strange girl. Dawn, equally curious, stared back. Finally though, with Aragorn and Boromir arriving back on the scene carrying Frodo and Sam, she decided to break the stand-off.  
She smirked. "What are you staring at exactly?"  
They shrugged. "You are very strange," Pippin commented.  
Dawn's smirk deepened. "I'm strange? Ok, coming from someone that's three-foot-six and has hairy feet, that's just freakin' weird. What are you, anyway? Midgets? Munchkins?"  
"We're Hobbits," replied Merry seriously. "What are 'Midgets' and 'Munchkins', please?"  
To the consternation of the gathered Fellowship, Dawn burst out laughing. She did not care about the taken aback expressions she was receiving, the idea of someone asking in all seriousness 'what are 'Munchkins', please?' was hysterical.  
As she looked over to Frodo, though, her laughter died on her lips. She quickly sobered and held his gaze with her own.  
"Do not fear power when you have no control over it's presence within you. The key is to remain yourself," Dawn said with a grim smile. Her eyes betrayed her affinity with Frodo's situation whilst knowing nothing of the particulars. "Believe me, I know."  
For a moment, Frodo looked as if he'd been slapped by the truth of her words. He nodded, wide-eyed. He understood her.  
Dawn felt eight pairs of eyes staring at her and fidgeted uncomfortably. They all seemed weary of her now. 'Well, least they aren't looking at me like a weak pathetic child anymore,' she thought.  
Out loud she said, "Uh, maybe we should keep going?"  
"Yes," Aragorn agreed, breaking the Fellowship's silence. "Let's continue. It is not far to the borders of Lorien now." His eyes did not move from Dawn's face as he scanned it for signs of deceit and ill will. Dawn let him stare at her, not fearing him in the least.  
Aragorn was easily convinced that no harm would be done by this girl, and he gave her a small smile before taking back to their path. Dawn followed, on foot, ever aware of Legolas following close behind, watching her every step intently. She pointedly ignored him, as she often did with Buffy when she was too overprotective. Aragorn was right, the arrived at a forest not long after he'd said they would.  
Dawn wandered into the trees, gasping at their beauty. But as she walked, a strange feeling settled over her. She hadn't exactly been warm since she'd regained consciousness, but now she was fast becoming dead cold. Within minutes she was shivering uncontrollably. Somewhere behind her, she could hear Gimli grumbling about an Elf-witch of great and terrible power, but paid him no attention, her mind incapable of thought beyond the basic 'left foot, right foot, left foot...'  
Legolas, still behind Dawn, noticed her condition worsening, but let it slide for a short while. He sensed she did not appreciate being coddled. Soon enough, though, he was fully satisfied that she was too unwell to refuse his care.  
He sidled up to her to take a look at her face. He gasped in horror. Annoyed, Dawn flashed her fierce green eyes towards him. Legolas' eyes were wide, taking in how her face had become even paler, almost translucent, and her lips had turned a frightening shade of blue. Without a word, Legolas wrapped his cloak around her.  
Letting her annoyance go, Dawn nodded gratefully, even though the warm cloak could do nothing to dispel the ice that she felt was forming in her veins. Legolas had just decided he would carry her again, whether she allowed it or not, when on reflex he pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed it. They had been surrounded by Elves.  
"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could've shot him in the dark," the leader sneered at Gimli.  
Gimli grumbled in response.  
Aragorn moved forward and began speaking with the leader, Haldir, in a language Dawn did not understand. Legolas followed the conversation, in Elvish, intently. The rest of the Fellowship was just as clueless at Aragorn and Haldir's words as Dawn was.  
Haldir finally turned to them. "You will follow me."  
Dawn felt herself being swept up in Legolas' arms once more. She didn't protest, just rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, wishing she could stop shivering. Her feet were still bare, from the ritual, which made matters even worse for her. They were like two lumps of ice attached to her legs. There were streaks of blood running over them like sick patterns, and they felt tender and bruised from walking over rough surfaces.  
They came to the Elven city of Caras Galadhon, and were led up a staircase to a high flet in a grand tree. They stood waiting as a white glow approached them from a little higher up the tree. From the centre of the light emerged two figures. Elves, tall, beautiful, pale and regal. Dawn shivered. Instinctively, Legolas tightened his arms around her, trying to warm her cold skin.  
Celeborn and Galadriel approached, the Lord of Lothlorien speaking first. "Nine there are here, yet not the nine that set out from Rivendell. Tell me where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."  
Galadriel read from Aragorn's eyes. "Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into Shadow."  
"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame. A Balrog of Morgoth, for we went needlessly into the net of Moria," said Legolas softly, still focused on Dawn's gradually worsening condition.  
At Legolas' words, Gimli hung his head, feeling a deep guilt that he had pushed so hard for the Fellowship to head into the perilous mines.  
Galadriel's words were stern, but kind. "Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose. Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-Dhum fill your heart, Gimli son of Gloin, for the world has grown full of peril and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."  
Her sharp gaze locked onto Boromir, who began to sweat under the pressure, tears forming in his eyes. Gimli, on the other hand, was staring up at her, entranced by her words and her beauty. Frodo gasped as she spoke words of welcoming to him in his mind.  
"Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace," she dismissed the Fellowship.  
Legolas stood rooted to the spot, cradling Dawn in his arms still, unsure of what to do with her. Galadriel beckoned him to her. Wordlessly, she led him to a chamber further up in the great tree.  
She motioned for him to put Dawn on the bed and Legolas immediately co-operated. Galadriel moved to stand over Dawn, who was now so cold she was beyond shivering. Her eyes had glazed over, and she was looking without seeing.  
The Elf Queen put her hand on Dawn's forehead, using her magic to counter the effect that the supernaturalism of Lothlorien had had on her after her fall through the portal. But at the touch, Dawn became hysterical.  
She began to scream, a bloodcurdling sound which caused all those who heard it to cringe. The sounds wound all the way to the forest floor, where the Fellowship was camped. Aragorn quickly bade the others to stay within their tent and ran up the stairs, sensing he was needed.  
Back in the chamber, Dawn was still thrashing violently, and despite Legolas bearing down on her to hold her still with all his strength, he could not keep her stable enough for Galadriel to make a connection. Dawn's blind panic was so forceful that though Galadriel could work her way into the young mind, Dawn did not register her presence and therefore Galadriel could not communicate with her.  
The eighteen year old's screams began to form into words, forgetting her pride and begging for her sister. "Buffy!" she was screaming, over and over, her legs kicking and her head shaking violently back and forth.  
Aragorn burst into the room, making his way to the bed without a moment's hesitation. He scooped Dawn's legs up in an iron grip, gathering her hands in the hold, allowing Legolas to focus on keeping her head still. He was still amazed at how cold the girl's skin was. Her voice faltered and faded to a whimper. "Buffy," Dawn sobbed.  
Finally, Galadriel was able to lay her hand over Dawn, and with a minute of intense concentration, Dawn's sobs were silenced and her skin began to warm. The gash on her face faded and disappeared. Galadriel sat back, watching lips turn from blue to white to pink, the slightest hint of colour returning to the smooth cheeks. She was more interested in the rush of images she'd felt from Dawn with their connection.  
Legolas and Aragorn let her go and Dawn no longer struggled. She was deeply asleep. They moved back to allow an Elf to cover her with a thick, soft blanket.  
Galadriel rose. "Come with me," she told them, leaving the room. When Legolas paused to look back at the sleeping figure, she spoke to his mind. 'She will be well in the morning. Leave her to rest now.'  
The two friends followed Galadriel to a secluded area, where she turned to face them at last. She did not speak.  
Aragorn broke the silence. "What was wrong with her, my Lady?"  
Galadriel gave them a chilling look. "She is dead."  
"Dead?" Legolas echoed.  
Galadriel nodded slowly. "It was her death that brought her here. I saw it when I healed her. Legolas, you have had most contact with her since you came across her, I know you felt the ice in her skin. You did not understand that it was the lingering effects of her passing, which I have relieved her of. I also healed the wounds on her skin."  
Legolas nodded, his mind racing. "But why did her condition worsen the as we entered this land?"  
"The mystical energy of the Golden Wood affected the mystical energy within her, and showed itself by enhancing the effects of her passing into Middle-Earth. You see, Dawn was no ordinary human in her world. She knew this, but even those who knew her best did not know a fraction of her power. She herself does not know it. It is the reason she fell into Middle-Earth upon her death instead of passing to one of the lands of mortal death of her world." Galadriel's words were cryptic, leaving Legolas and Aragorn more confused than when she had begun.  
"I do not understand," Aragorn admitted.  
"Nor do I," responded Galadriel. "I have seen much of her former world through her, and felt a great deal of Dawn's power and strength, but there is yet much I do not understand. Such questions will only be answered upon her waking. Go now to your rest, and we will speak some more in the morning."  
  
* * * * * 


	2. Chapter 2: Waking up Dead

Dawn awoke to the gentle sounds of wildlife surrounding her. Sunlight was filtering in through leaves and branches all around, and she was in a large bed. She pulled herself into a sitting position, drawing her knees up to her chest. It took a moment for her memory of the previous day to return to her.  
She looked down at her torn and bloodied dress and remembered how she'd killed herself, left all her family behind so they could live, and that instead of being reunited with her mother as she'd been praying for, she was in this strange land called Middle-Earth with no obvious way of finding home again. She absently noted that though the blood and the tears were still on her dress, the cuts that Doc had made were gone.  
Dawn burst into tears. Hugging her knees, she rocked back and forth, sobbing like she hadn't sobbed since her mother's death four years ago. Her shoulders shook and she bit hard on her lip to mute the sounds.  
A few minutes later, having let her stress out, Dawn took several deep breaths and forced herself to calm down. She threw her head back, stretching out the muscles in her neck. She looked to the door, surprised to find two sets of bright eyes staring back at her.  
"Oh!" Pippin squeaked, having been caught. "We're sorry," he stammered, embarrassed. "Merry and I just came up from breakfast. We wanted to see if you were ok, we didn't mean to spy, Lady Dawn. Honest."  
Merry just stood, nodding at Pippin's words. He and Pippin had decided they liked Dawn when they had been staring at each other the day before. She seemed like she was a lot of fun when she laughed.  
Dawn sniffed and wiped her hand over her eyes. "It's ok. You guys can come in," she assured them, her voice still thick with tears.  
The Hobbits approached her cautiously. Dawn shifted over on the bed and patted the mattress. "Have a seat."  
She snickered a little as they had to actually climb just to be able to sit on her bed. "Are you all right, Lady Dawn?" Merry asked when they were all comfortable.  
"Five by five," she borrowed one of her favourite phrases of Faith's. "But do me a favour, call me Dawn- it's just Dawn, ok?"  
"Ok. Uh, Dawn, can I ask you a question?" Merry asked.  
"Sure, shoot," Dawn replied.  
"What does 'five by five' mean?"  
"It means I'm all right. Sorry- I kinda tend to forget you guys don't know half the words I'd use at home."  
"Where is your home?" Pippin asked, his voice filled with curiosity.  
For a moment, Dawn didn't know what to say to that. Finally, she decided to just say what she could about Sunnydale without scaring them too much. "My home was a place called Sunnydale, and it is nothing like any place here." Dawn shook her head, unable to explain the differences in their worlds.  
"Are there Hobbits?" Merry asked eagerly. "Do you know any Hobbits in Sunnydale?"  
Dawn gave a sad smile. "No. There are no Hobbits in Sunnydale, or anywhere in my world." She looked at them fondly, already having warmed to them. "I wish there were, though."  
"No Hobbits," they gasped together, aghast.  
"No Hobbits," Dawn repeated. "No Elves, either. Or what did Aragorn call them yesterday? Orcs. Whatever they are, we don't have 'em. Or Dwarves either. I mean, we do have some incredibly short people but they don't have hairy feet and none of those chunky braided beards that Gimli has. Or... most of them don't," she amended.  
Merry and Pippin laughed at Dawn's description. "What do you have?" Pippin asked, feeling as if Dawn's world didn't have a whole lot.  
"Besides people? Mostly, just demons and vamps," she spoke without thinking, then cringed. She couldn't believe how carelessly she'd just opened up to her new friends. She had told them too much, and it was too late to take it back. None of them noticed two tall figures hesitate in the doorway. Aragorn was about to walk straight in with the Lady's breakfast, but Legolas shook his head. Dawn seemed relaxed around the younger Hobbits, and he wanted her to feel as comfortable as she could after her ordeal. Aragorn shrugged. Maybe they could learn something from her conversation with the Hobbits.  
At the mention of a new word, the Hobbits' curiosity redoubled. "Demons we have heard a little of, though we'd like to know what kinds you have. But what are these 'vamps' as you call them?"  
Dawn sighed and launched into a description of vampires, telling them that they were a form of demon, undead beings who drank the blood of people to survive. When they asked where vampires came from, Dawn explained the process of making a vampire, the exchange of blood. By the time she'd outlined a few of the greater demons the Scooby Gang had faced in its day, Merry and Pippin were very glad they'd never been to Sunnydale.  
Dawn laughed when Pippin told her that. "Oh, it's not all bad," she assured them. "There's all sorts of cool stuff in my world. But where are you guys from?" she decided it was time to change the subject, now that she'd spilled more than a few of her world's deepest darkest secrets.  
Merry and Pippin became instantly animated, giving her a vivid description of the Shire, emphasising it's beauty and simplicity, and the sense of peace that seemed connected with the land.  
"Buckland is the fairest part of the Shire," Merry told her with a wink.  
"Nay, Tookland!" Pippin cried, accepting Merry's challenge of the lands.  
"Well, Brandy Hall is the greatest homestead in all the Shire, I'll wager any day," Merry shot back.  
Dawn laughed at the banter between the friends until Merry turned to her. "You must come and see for yourself, Dawn. I think we'll be needing a judge to settle the matter for us."  
"I'd love to," Dawn told him.  
"After the quest is over, of course," Pippin reminded them.  
"What quest?" Dawn asked, her forehead wrinkling slightly in confusion. It hadn't occurred to her before now to ask why eight men of various species and different areas of the world would be traipsing about together all over the countryside.  
For once both Merry and Pippin were at a loss for words. The uncomfortable silence was broken by a quick knock at the door. Those on the bed turned to see Aragorn and Legolas standing in the doorway, arms laden with Dawn's breakfast.  
Never willing to hinder the serving of a good meal, Merry and Pippin obligingly climbed off Dawn's bed so Aragorn and Legolas could set up a makeshift table over Dawn's lap, laying a large platter of food on it.  
"Thanks," Dawn told them, her eyes widening as they took in the mountains of food covering the huge plate. Legolas poured her a glass of water and set it beside the plate. She looked at the food, but did not eat. Dawn knew she should be famished, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten, but her stomach was strangely neutral.  
Meanwhile, Aragorn was sternly lecturing the Hobbits. "You weren't disturbing Lady Dawn, were you?"  
Before they could answer, Dawn broke in. "No. Aragorn, I'm fine. Merry and Pippin came to visit me. They were keeping me company is all." She smiled at her new friends.  
Relieved, they began to chatter excitedly. "Dawn told us all about her home, a place called Sunnydale," Pippin began.  
"Yes, they don't have Hobbits and Elves and Dwarves and all that like we do. But they have demons, some like giant snakes and some are big and blue and nearly indestructible," Merry joined in Pippin's chatter. "And they have these things -what did you call them Dawn?- Vampires? Yes, vampires. They're like these demons that suck people's blood and drink it and they can even turn people into vampires by drinking their blood and then letting people drink their blood and..."  
"Enough!" cried Aragorn, barely able to conceal the amusement in his voice. "Merry, Pippin, you must've exhausted Lady Dawn. And in her weakened condition as well!"  
Dawn prickled a bit. "I feel fine!" She hadn't meant to speak so abruptly, and she could tell that the others were startled by her tone. But she still hated being called weak. "Sorry, Aragorn. Didn't mean to go all Billion Dollar Princess on you there," she relented, ignoring the four confused looks she got for the phrase.  
"You should eat something, my Lady," Legolas gently prodded, indicating her untouched plate.  
"I'm really not hungry," Dawn tried to persuade them, but Legolas and Aragorn refused to leave her side until she had eaten at least something that they'd brought her. Dawn sighed and began to pick at a bread roll.  
She tore it into tiny pieces before popping it into her mouth, rationalising that if she only took tiny pieces, at least she could feel like she wasn't really swallowing anything at all. She ended up giving most of what was left over to Merry and Pippin, winning over their hearts completely with the gesture.  
Aragorn looked at her, consternation written all over his face. Dawn shrugged cheekily. "No sense in wasting it," she quipped.  
He nodded slowly. "Merry, Pippin, why don't you take your second breakfast down to the ground. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable there."  
Too happy with their food to care about being sent away, the Hobbits agreed readily. "Ok, Strider. Thanks, Dawn! We'll see you later."  
"Bye," Dawn called after them, waving happily as they disappeared. She leaned back on her pillows, staring up at Legolas and Aragorn expectantly. "Ok, they're gone. What do you want?" Her tone was flat and she spoke directly, but there was no rudeness or hostility about her.  
Legolas and Aragorn looked at each other, then at her. "We'd like to know where you came from, my Lady," Legolas began slowly.  
"Sunnydale. And do you think you could drop the 'my Lady' deal, Legsy? It kinda gives me the wiggins."  
"Pardon, Lady? I do not understand you," the Elf replied.  
"What I mean is, call me Dawn. Just Dawn."  
"As you wish, Dawn. You say you are from a place called Sunnydale?" Legolas was still speaking. Aragorn had dropped out of the conversation, preferring to concentrate on observing Dawn's behaviour as she answered Legolas' questions.  
"Of course I say I'm from Sunnydale- that's where I'm from. What do you really wanna know, Legolas, coz the twenty questions is getting old, fast." It did not escape Aragorn's, nor Legolas' notice that Dawn was becoming slightly defensive. A guarded look had come into her eyes, her face became an emotionless mask, and her answers were deliberately short, as if she was afraid to say too much.  
Taking a risk, Legolas decided to try being completely blunt with her. "How did you die?"  
His words achieved their desired effect. Dawn's eyes locked onto him, and she faltered. He watched with sympathy as pain flooded back over her features, making her green eyes look even more brilliant. A tear slid down her cheek.  
Legolas brushed it away. "It's all right, Dawn. You can trust us."  
Dawn nodded. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, and any man other than Aragorn would not have heard a word she said. She started from the beginning, telling them all about how they'd had to move to Sunnydale, which was also know as Boca Del Infierno, the mouth of Hell. When they did not understand what Hell was, she told them about that, too. She outlined how her sister was the Slayer, the warrior of the people. Legolas and Aragorn were silent, engrossed not only in her tale, but the way that Dawn told it. Through her words they could feel not only Dawn's pain, but a lot of Buffy's as well. But Legolas noted a tiny hint of resentment in Dawn's voice as she spoke of the Slayer.  
"Then, four years ago, everything changed. A Hell-God named Glorificus- Glory, came to Sunnydale looking for this thing, this Key. It was mystical energy which was supposed to give her the power to open up the barriers between dimensions so she could return to the Hell Dimension she was banished form. And not long after that, I accidentally found out that this Key thing, it was me. There were these monks, religious guys from the Order of Dagon, who had been keeping the Key safe since, like, the dawn of time. But Glory caught up with them and she woulda gotten the Key. So they did the only thing they could think. They made me. They channelled all the Key's energy into the body of a helpless fourteen year old girl and altered everyone's memories to think I'd existed all along. They sent me to the strongest warrior- the Slayer.... Buffy. They made me into her sister, made me outta Buffy's blood, coz they had to be sure Buffy would protect the Key with her life."  
Legolas and Aragorn were staring now, completely dumbfounded. Dawn noticed the looks they were giving her.  
"You don't believe me, do you?" she asked. Her voice was a little sad. She'd wanted for four years to let someone of her choice in, to let someone see what she really was. But she'd always been terrified that nobody would believe her, and that she'd lose people she could care about because of it. It was why she'd never had any real friends. She had friends, sure, but nobody close, nobody who really knew her.  
"We believe you, Dawn," Legolas swore. His voice dropped as he murmured to himself, "Power without control," remembering what she'd said to Frodo yesterday.  
Aragorn had come forward to stand beside her bed. "Yes, we do. Will you continue? Will you tell us your story?"  
Dawn nodded and went on. "I freaked when I found out. I couldn't understand it- I wasn't real." she broke off, and without even looking, she pulled the left sleeve of her gown up, exposing a long scar, now no more than a line in the skin on her wrist. Legolas and Aragorn stared at it.  
"I cut myself. I thought that if I bled, if I could feel pain, see my own blood, it would prove that I was really me, not just a Key. I didn't understand anything anymore. I didn't even want to understand for a while. When someone tells you you're not real- you're just a thing, it's like the world stops turning for you. I kinda started to think that nothing I did mattered." She covered her scar again and met both of their gazes.  
"But everything has to matter, sooner or later. At the same time as all this was going down, our Mom was sick. She had a brain tumour.... a growth pressing on her brain that shouldn't have been there. They did an operation on her, and they said they got all the tumour out." She looked down a moment, struggling to continue. Letting them know she was the Key felt like saying she preferred apples to oranges compared to what she had to say next.  
"But a few months later, right when we thought everything was back to normal, pfft- normal as possible for us, Buffy came home and found her..... Buffy came to my school and told me- Mom was dead. There had been a complication from the tumour, it caused an aneurysm. It made her bleed in her brain and the blood clots from that killed her, stopped her brain from working," she explained. She wasn't crying, but pain was radiating in her from waves that almost floored her audience.  
Legolas sat beside her, taking her hand in his own. He couldn't fathom the pain this one young woman had endured in eighteen short years, he'd been alive for almost three thousand years and had never even come remotely close to hurting like she had. And through it all, both he and Aragorn could feel the strength emanating from her.  
"After that it was just me and Buffy. And we did ok, with the help of Buffy's friends- Willow and Xander, her best friends. And there were others too- Tara, Spike, Giles, Anya. Somehow we kept it all together. But then Glory found out I was the Key. She ended up abducting me.... that was three days ago now. I never even found out how she knew." Dawn glanced down at her ruined clothing. "She had me put in this dress, and her minions tied me to the top of a tower. I can fight, but they drugged me, there was nothing I could do. By the time I was recovered enough to put up a fight, the ropes were on me and there was no-one left up there to fight. They'd all gone down to await the ritual. See, blood was the key to the Key. My blood would tear the fabric between dimensions, and the tears would not heal until my blood was stopped. Glory planned to use my blood to open her world up and pass through, not caring that all manner of hell would be leashed upon my dimension, and every other, including Middle- Earth, till my blood was stopped."  
Legolas' grip tightened on Dawn's hand. He was horrified at what she must've felt, the weight of the world... every world, on her shoulders. She continued as if she didn't feel the pressure of his hand.  
"The stupid thing is, Glory never even got up the tower to me. Buffy kept her down, incapacitated her so she couldn't start the ritual. But one of her minions took it upon himself to do so." She gestured to the tears in her dress, the bloodstains that she'd become almost used to. "That's all these cuts. Him letting my blood out. I could feel it dribbling down my skin... and then Buffy was there. She had me, she pulled me free. But it was too late- just one drop, one drop of my blood had dripped on the portal opening and it was happening- worlds were collapsing into each other."  
Dawn had real difficulty speaking the next words aloud. Something inside her screamed in protest to her saying she had killed herself. It was true, she had slit her wrist once, but she knew she wasn't suicidal. She didn't embrace death for the sake of ending her life. "I had no choice. Buffy tried to stop me, like I knew she would. She'd rather see the end of the world than let me hurt myself. But I can't let innocent people suffer when I know I have the power to stop it. So I jumped. I killed myself. I chose death so my sister could have life, and the world along with her."  
She looked up at them now, tears forming in her eyes. To Aragorn, she looked just like a lost child, terrified and alone. "I don't know why I'm here. How I got here. I mean, if anything, I should fallen through the portal into Glory's hell dimension. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wish my Mom was here!" she burst out, breaking down.  
Legolas slid his arms around her shoulders, letting Dawn lean into him for support. There was something about her that made him want so badly to make her feel safe. He had the distinct impression, confirmed by her tale so far, that safe was not a common feeling for her.  
Dawn quickly regained her composure. She wiped her tears away and pulled gently out of Legolas' embrace. "You're always picking me up, aren't you," she said apologetically to the Elf.  
"Ta nae amin saesa, Arwenamin" he responded with a soft smile. Dawn was beginning to like that smile.  
She furrowed her brow at his strange language.  
"That was Elvish for 'it was my pleasure, my Lady'," Aragorn translated for her.  
"Pretty language," she mused. "So what now?"  
"Now, we let you take a bath," Aragorn told her. "There will be someone coming to draw you a bath and bring you clothing. Then we will meet with the Lady Galadriel. Perhaps she could help you understand your situation a little better."  
Dawn nodded her thanks as Aragorn made his way out the door. Legolas leaned in close to her before standing up. "We will be close by if you should need us, Dawn."  
"Oh I can bathe all by myself," Dawn teased with a weak grin.  
He smiled and moved to leave, but Dawn grabbed his arm. "Hey," she called softly. "Thanks... for everything." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Legolas looked surprised, but smiled at her again before he left.  
Aragorn was waiting for him just outside the door.  
"Let's go," Legolas urged him on to meet Galadriel.  
He noticed the man studying him intently. "Are you blushing?" Aragorn finally asked, laughter creeping into his voice.  
"Lady Galadriel will be waiting," Legolas replied shortly.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Legolas and Aragorn found Galadriel by her mirror. They quickly related Dawn's story to them and she nodded her head, as if things were becoming clear to her as they spoke.  
"Even she does not know what she is," Galadriel mused. "But I have ascertained where her power and strength come from. The mix of powers from the Key and the blood of the Slayer have made her something remarkable. Part energy, part warrior, part girl, and another part which I will discuss when she arrives."  
"Here she comes," Aragorn gestured to the stairs leading to their clearing.  
Dawn had reached the bottom step, and felt the cool grass beneath her feet as she crossed the clearing. Her hair was washed and brushed out, hanging loose on the shoulders of her white dress. She nodded to them, not really sure how to greet Galadriel.  
Galadriel smiled encouragingly at her. "I am pleased to see you recovered, Dawn."  
"Thank you... my Lady," she returned, taking her lead from how the Fellowship had addressed her upon their meeting. She began to chew on her thumbnail in her nervousness. They were all staring at her.  
"Perhaps to look into the mirror would answer some of your questions," Galadriel indicated her mirror on a pedestal beside her. She had already filled it with water.  
Dawn's hands flew to her hair. "Why? Is there something wrong with my hair?" she asked in a panic.  
The others laughed. "No, my dear," Galadriel responded. "The mirror shows many things...."  
"Oh! A magic mirror! 'Kay, sure I'll look."  
Dawn moved to the mirror and looked at the water. It clouded over, then cleared and began to show a series of images. Dawn saw herself jump from the tower. She saw her own body broken on the concrete, Buffy and the other Scoobies sobbing over her. To them she was dead. She saw Frodo, felt his anguish and a ring hanging around his neck. Dawn shuddered. The ring was the power she'd felt coming from him the day before. It was complete evil, almost as terrifying as her encounters with the First Evil. She saw a series of horrible fates befalling the Fellowship, and then she saw herself, standing alone with a woman she'd never seen before. The woman was tall, pale and blonde. Something about her demeanour reminded her of Buffy, and she felt an affinity with the woman. They were both wielding swords, watching as something heavy pounded on a closed door, about to break in on them. She felt no fear in herself or the woman as they waited. She saw an ash-covered field, a battleground with a raging volcano in the background. A final rush of images told her a lot about the Fellowship, their road so far and their purpose.  
Dawn stepped back, looking at the trio watching her. Forgetting her own situation, she immediately asked, "How can I help?"  
"It is too dangerous," Aragorn responded, almost automatically.  
Galadriel smothered a smile as Dawn arched an eyebrow at Aragorn. The Key was clearly not amused. "Believe it or not, Aragorn, I've faced worse evil than this little ring thingy you're all so stressed over. I've faced the First Evil- beyond sin, beyond death. I've faced the thing the darkness fears, the reason things like Sauron and his tacky ring are able to exist, and it tried to destroy me. Guess what- it failed, big time. Don't you dare stand there and talk down to me about danger. My life is danger. Why the hell would I have seen all that crap about you guys if I didn't need to? Obviously, it has something to do with me."  
"You may be right, Dawn," Galadriel interrupted. "And you may be wrong. In any event, we will find out along the road, as you must travel with the Fellowship."  
Aragorn and Legolas gasped. To have the Lady travel with them was impossible. "She'll be killed!" Aragorn protested.  
"Honey, I'm already dead," came the sarcastic reply.  
"Death is no longer a threat to Dawn," Galadriel announced. Gaining their complete attention, she continued. "You felt your power awakening within some time ago. You have been learning that the combination of your energy with your sister's blood gives you something of an irregular power. You now are more able to fight than you have ever been before. What you have not yet felt is that you are immortal."  
Dawn blinked. "Bullshit!" She coloured immediately after she spoke, ashamed of her language. "Sorry, just kinda slipped out," she squeaked.  
Legolas and Aragorn were equally amazed at Galadriel's revelation.  
Galadriel nodded. "Yes, immortal. The Key had to be made to endure, and so you were made to endure. The power took effect on your eighteenth birthday. But nobody foresaw your spirit. Instead the Higher Powers had deduced that your world would end. That there would be no more need for the Key in that reality, and so you would perish along with the rest. But since that world did not end, your power could not be terminated. The Powers had to act quickly to counteract your decision to jump. Your essence was sent here, so that you might go on fighting for good as you have done in your world."  
For a moment, nobody in the clearing moved or spoke.  
Then Dawn threw a self-satisfied glance at Aragorn. "See- who's the weak little girly girl now?" she teased, a smirk creeping over her features. She knew from looking into the mirror that Aragorn was destined to be the great King of Men, but she still couldn't resist taunting him when the opportunity had arisen.  
"The decision should be Frodo's," Aragorn said, annoyed.  
"Dawn shall come with us if she wishes," declared a small voice from behind them. They turned to see that Frodo and Sam had slipped down the stairs. They had heard everything that had passed between the group since Dawn had looked into the mirror.  
"Thank you, Frodo. I'm in," she told him. "Besides, no offence, Lady Galadriel, but this place kinda wigs me out."  
Galadriel laughed. "Your discomfort is readily excused. See, there is a deep mystical energy running through Lothlorien, and for some reason, it has reacted badly with your own mystical energy. I have managed to limit the effects for the duration of your stay, but you could not remain here permanently."  
Dawn and Legolas both nodded, remembering how her condition had become so much worse as soon as they'd entered the woods. Then Legolas remembered that she had been unwell before they had even reached Lothlorien.  
"My Lady, will Dawn be all right once we leave Lorien?" He asked. "It's true she did worsen while she was here, but she was unwell before we'd reached the woods. Will she not be affected at our departure?"  
Galadriel nodded. "I believe so. Her initial illness was just her essence adjusting to a new world. Passing through a portal is no easy task, there were bound to be some side effects. Dawn will be fully adjusted to Middle-Earth by now."  
She dismissed Legolas, Aragorn and Dawn, but requested that Frodo and Sam stay to look into her mirror for themselves. The three made their way up the stairs.  
"Well, Dawn," murmured Aragorn. "Welcome to the Fellowship of the Ring."  
"Thanks, King-guy," she quipped with a very large, mischievous smirk on her face. Aragorn frowned. Legolas grinned.  
  
* * * * * 


	3. Chapter 3: Spidey Senses and Other Tingl...

A week later, the Fellowship, including Dawn, were leaving Lothlorien. They were all decked out in new cloaks that Galadriel's ladies in waiting had made for them personally, and Dawn was very grateful when one of them had also bought her a pair of pants, a shirt, and some boots, all in the elvish design. She was more than a little sick of the dresses that seemed to swallow her entire figure. She was always tripping over them.  
In addition, they all received personal gifts from Galadriel and Celeborn. Dawn enjoyed the feel of her brand new sword, Me'ahyanda, the lightblade, in its sheath hanging at her hip as she jumped lightly into a boat behind Gimli.  
Gimli protested as the boat rocked, clutching furiously at the sides. "Oi!" he cried.  
Dawn grinned sheepishly as she sat. "Sorry, Gimli. My bad."  
When the nine had all boarded, three to each boat, they set off down the Anduin. Dawn noticed the sombre expressions of her two boatmates, Gimli and Legolas.  
"Why are you guys so mopey?" she asked them.  
Gimli's gruff voice came back to her from the bow of the boat. "I have taken my worst wound on this parting, for I have looked my last on that which is fairest. Ugh, henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."  
Curious, Legolas asked "What was her gift?"  
"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three."  
Dawn bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Legolas nudged her with his foot, willing her to hold her tongue. She nodded, but he could see her fighting to control her amusement. Finally, she managed to regain her composure, but her cheeks were pink and her eyes brightened.  
Legolas shook his head at her antics and kept paddling.  
Three hours later, Dawn was bored out of her mind. Gimli was still brooding over Galadriel and Legolas was concentrating not only on the water, but constantly scanning the shores for signs of danger. She rolled her eyes, wondering if Gimli was somehow channelling Angel. He was doing a perfect brooding impression of the vampire with a soul. She trailed her hand lazily through the cold water of the river for a moment, enjoying the sensation.  
When she pulled it out a minute later, she accidentally sent little droplets of water flying through the air. She turned to see if Legolas had noticed her mischief and couldn't help but laugh.  
The Elf's nose was wrinkled, his eyes squinting against the water Dawn had somehow managed to splatter all over his face. He was incredibly uncomfortable, and could not wipe his face clean as he was trying to paddle still.  
Dawn shifted her weight slightly, turning to face him. "Here," she said, still giggling as she used the corner of her cloak to pat his face dry. "Sorry," she said with an impish grin that was impossible for Legolas not to return.  
An hour before dusk, Aragorn spied the perfect campground. He motioned for Boromir and Legolas to follow him to the bank of the river. Within minutes, all the Fellowship, relieved to be free from the confines of their boats at last, had unpacked and pulled the boats from the water. Using the last of the day's light, Gimli and Legolas went for firewood so that Sam could cook dinner.  
A rough camp having already been made, Dawn found she had nothing to do but wait for dinner. The Hobbits were sitting around where the fire would be, Boromir and Aragorn were just standing around, looking serious. Dawn pulled Me'ahyanda from her sheath, trying to get more acquainted with the sword before she found herself needing to use it. She hated to admit it, but most of her work had been done with a stake or an axe, save for the odd broadsword. She was confident she could handle the weapon, though, the hilt seemed to mould to her hand perfectly.  
Giving herself a wide berth from her companions, she took a few practise swings. "Neat," she commented to herself when she saw how easily and gracefully the blade sliced through the air. She didn't notice the attention the Hobbits and Men had turned on her for a minute.  
When she finally looked up, she let out a small "Eep!"  
Boromir was studying her, a dubious look on his face. "You can swing a blade well, Lady Dawn. But can you truly wield a sword?" From his look, Dawn could tell he didn't have any faith or respect for her fighting skills.  
She bristled a little. She didn't really like Boromir, there was something a little off about him, something that would've made Buffy's spidey senses tingle. But Merry and Pippin seemed to like him, so Dawn often let it slide.  
Dawn lifted her sword and took a fighting stance. "Care for a round?" she challenged. The Hobbits perked up at this. Merry and Pippin had told Frodo and Sam what Dawn had told them of her life in Sunnydale, and they too were interested in seeing Dawn in action.  
Boromir was incredulous. "I would not wish to harm you, Lady," he told her.  
She glared at him. "I would not wish you to be in doubt of my skill, Lord," she shot back.  
Aragorn stepped in, settling the matter. "It is wise for Dawn to practise with her new blade while she may," he reasoned. "Boromir, would you please oblige us with a sparring partner for the lady?" The Ranger didn't want to admit it, but his curiosity was as great as the others'.  
Boromir stepped up, facing Dawn. He raised his sword and aimed a soft blow at the girl. It was clear he was too doubtful of Dawn's abilities to give her any real competition.  
She took matters into her own hands. Dawn not only blocked Boromir's shot, but she used her sword and threw his away, leaving him wide open. In a flash, Dawn's sword was pointed straight at the man's throat. The Hobbits cheered.  
"Are we gonna play or not?" she asked evenly.  
Boromir understood. He nodded slowly and Dawn pulled her sword back, ready to go again. This time their duel was much more satisfying. Swords flew back and forth, the clash of metal ringing clearly over the campsite. At first Boromir still held back a small amount of force, but when he realised that in actual fact, Dawn was only a little weaker than he was, he let fly with his full strength. The fight went on for some time, the sun sank lower in the sky and Legolas and Gimli had returned with armloads of firewood, dropped in a forgotten pile as they were caught up in the action.  
At first, they had been worried to hear the clash of swords, but when they'd burst into the camp, unnoticed by the others, they understood the situation immediately. Boromir and Dawn were battling furiously, the Hobbits were entranced by the scene, and Aragorn was staring intently at Dawn, assessing her as she fought. Legolas could see him mentally noting flaws in her technique, but he could also see how impressed Aragorn was. Dawn was stronger than he'd believed possible for a girl, almost as strong as Boromir, and she was fearless.  
The conflict was reaching its climax. Boromir, with a rush of power, knocked Me'ahyanda from Dawn's hand, sending her reeling. He stepped up behind her, about to lock her into something of a bear hug, his sword loosely at her throat. But Dawn was resourceful. She struck down, driving her elbow into Boromir's side. He gasped in shock and pain and began to double over. Dawn used to opportunity to grab his arm and twisted.  
With a yell, Boromir found he had been flipped over Dawn's shoulder by his own body weight. He lay on his back in the dirt, staring up at the girl who was now pointing his own sword at his chest with incredulousity written all over his face.  
Dawn just cocked a self-satisfied eyebrow at him before backing off. She dropped Boromir's sword beside him and went to retrieve her own. After a stunned moment of silence, the rest of the Fellowship broke out in wild applause.  
"We have greatly underestimated you, Dawn," Aragorn told her.  
"I know, King-guy," she replied.  
Boromir pulled himself up with what dignity he could muster. "I would've won in the end," he muttered.  
'Uh, hello!? I just kicked your ass!' Dawn thought angrily. Legolas watched Dawn's eyes flash furiously in the dying light. He could see the thought raging through her mind with anger as she resheathed Me'ahyanda. He was surprised when she merely turned to Boromir and said modestly "Probably, I'm more comfortable with a stake or an axe."  
Gimli's joy at finding someone who was almost as fond of axes as he was put on hold, overridden by the demands of the company for Dawn to explain what kind of weapon a stake is, and how does one wield such a thing.  
Finally, one by one, the Fellowship dropped off to sleep, leaving Legolas on watch. Dawn, however, found that saying she was going to sleep was a lot easier than actually going to sleep. After a full day cooped up in the boat, much as she had to admit she enjoyed the proximity to Legolas- hey, he was gorgeous- Dawn was restless. If she was back in Sunnydale, right now she probably would've tagged along to patrol with Buffy, or snuck out to do her own. She'd discovered she was more effective on her own. Buffy barely let her stake a vamp, so the Slayer didn't really know how proficient a fighter Dawn had become over the past few months. Dawn felt a pang of resent mixed with love and appreciation as she though of her sister.  
She sighed and sat up. Legolas, standing next to a tree peering into the night, turned at the sound. "Dawn, you should be asleep."  
Getting to her feet, Dawn mumbled, "I think my ass is asleep." She had barely meant to say it out loud, but when she looked over at Legolas and noticed the puzzled frown he was giving her, she remembered he had such excellent hearing. She froze a moment, not really wanting to have to explain that remark. She decided to distract him with a question before he could ask her what she meant.  
"So, what's the what with the big bad tonight, Legsy?" She came over to him and looked out through the trees.  
His frown deepened. He spoke softly, so as to not wake the others. "My Lady, I am afraid I do not understand you. Pray, speak plainer."  
Dawn gave him a look. "I am sorry, my Lord," she replied. She had taken to counteracting their use of the title 'my Lady' with an equally formal tone, hoping it would annoy them into remembering to call her by her first name. At times it made Legolas glad that he hadn't yet mentioned he was a Prince. He had the distinct feeling that she'd have a field day with that particular title, judging from her use of the information she'd learned about Aragorn's true identity.  
"I merely meant to ask if you felt any dark presences nearby, any immediate threats to our safety."  
"Oh, I see," the Elf replied. Dawn could tell he didn't really get it. "No, I sense no immediate danger..."  
"Uh-oh. You have but-face," Dawn interjected.  
Legolas just looked at her expectantly, patiently waiting for her to explain.  
"You look like you're about to say 'but'."  
He nodded, deciding to confide in his young human... friend. His eyes turned back to scan the dark woods. "There is a force of great darkness converging upon us, even as we speak. I feel it in my bones."  
Dawn was all too used to the sensation. "You could say your spidey senses were tingling," she mused, earning her another look. "See, in my world, there's this comic, a story told in pictures, about this guy, Peter Parker. One day he was bitten by a radioactive spider and began to exhibit some characteristics that spiders have, like spinning webs and sensing danger, which when he felt danger, he said his spidey senses were tingling. So he called himself Spiderman and ran around in red and blue tights fighting evil."  
"And you knew this Peter Parker?" Legolas asked, amazed.  
Dawn laughed, but Legolas put a finger to her lips to silence her before she woke anyone up. He was almost reluctant to do so, he found the sound of her laugh to be very sweet, and refreshing. Dawn's chuckles subsided and he forced himself to remove his hand from her face.  
"No, Legolas, I didn't know Spiderman. Nobody knows Spiderman, he's fictitious, made up. Not real. Anyway, my point is, part of being the Slayer meant that Buffy had the ability to sense impending danger, and she used to say her spidey senses were tingling, too. So, since you seem to have the same gift- is that an Elf thing?- I just figured you had tingly spidey senses as well," she finished lightly, with a shrug.  
Legolas smiled. "Yes, my intuition, my 'spidey senses', are part of being an Elf."  
Dawn grinned back, wondering what other slang she could teach him. Legolas, meanwhile, was captivated by the girl as she smiled. Under the luminous moonlight, she was beautiful. Her eyes glowed green, the moon highlighted long strands of soft hair, and her skin was an almost Elvish white. Legolas felt his eyes unconsciously drawn to her lips, soft and pink. He remembered their warmth under his silencing finger.  
Before he knew what he was doing, Legolas bent his head down towards Dawn. Automatically, she tilted her head back and leaned into him. They closed their eyes as their lips met, Legolas bringing his fingers to Dawn's face, exploring the smooth skin of her cheek. Her hands went to his waist, pulling him a little closer to her. Their kiss deepened and Legolas lost all awareness of anything that wasn't Dawn's soft lips moving beneath his and the two slender arms that wound their way up around his neck. Time seemed to stand still and their heads were filled with the sounds of their own hearts beating in unison.  
Suddenly, they froze, locked in their embrace. A deathly cold shadow was passing over them. Legolas pulled his face a centimetre from Dawn's.  
"Nazgul!" he whispered sharply. Lightning fast, he dived to the ground, tackling Dawn in the process. He landed on top of her in a somewhat compromising position, her arms still around his neck, holding onto him. He could feel Dawn's body shaking beneath him, but the winged Nazgul was out of his range even with the bow of the Galadhrim at his disposal. He pressed to her tightly to comfort her, unconsciously putting a hand to the soft skin of her waist.  
The others were stirring around them. "Don't move," Legolas called softly.  
It didn't take long for the shadow to pass, but to Frodo in particular it felt like an age. The Fellowship were all fully awake. Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir immediately began discussing the presence of the Ringwraiths, but the Hobbits were far more interested in the Elf Prince and the Lady, still sprawled together on the grass. Frodo and Sam politely tried not to stare. Sam was blushing furiously, Dawn's shirt had ridden up, exposing her midriff and Legolas' hand was on her bare skin.  
Dawn and Legolas, however, were oblivious to the attention they were receiving. He peered down into her face, concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.  
She nodded. "Five by five."  
They smiled at each other and Legolas, taking her words to mean she was all right, leaned down to kiss her again when finally Merry and Pippin could contain themselves no longer. The younger Hobbits snorted as Legolas' lips brushed over Dawn's and she caught them with her own.  
"Well, now we know what you two have been up to!" Pippin cried as he and Merry began to howl with laughter.  
Legolas pulled away from Dawn and blinked. The moment had been utterly broken.  
Frodo and Sam tried to bite back smiles, but failed. Even Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli were amused. As he leapt to his feet, Legolas began to colour slightly, reminding a chuckling Aragorn of how he'd been blushing in Lothlorien when he'd come out of Dawn's room on their first morning.  
Less than embarrassed- hey, with her first kiss she'd been busted parking in the woods with a vamp- Dawn allowed Legolas to pull her up. She grinned devilishly and threw a wink at Merry and Pippin as she straightened her shirt, which sent them into fresh peals of laughter.  
Aragorn hushed them, worried that the enemy was still close. "Quiet down now. And try to get some rest. I will take over the watch," he looked pointedly at Dawn and Legolas.  
Dawn shrugged. "Night, all," she settled down in her old spot and closed her eyes. The rest of the company shook their heads at the girl and did the same, with the exception of Aragorn on watch, and Legolas who did not need the rest. Between the two of them, the Ranger and the Elf guarded the camp until the coming of the dawn.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next day, Dawn found herself trapped when, as soon as they had set off in their boats at first light, Gimli launched into a lengthy discussion of all the different types of axes and in which way they were most efficient.  
Legolas smiled softly as he paddled. He knew such a boring discussion must be torture for the lady, but Dawn paid the Dwarf every attention, asking questions where appropriate and laughing at his jokes, most of which she did not understand, even when Aragorn and Legolas spent hours later trying to explain them. Legolas did not begrudge a moment he had spent patiently going through Gimli's meanings with her. Half the time, he was forced to agree with her when she said, "But that's not even funny," her delicate forehead creasing with her puzzlement.  
Dawn even tried to explain to the Dwarf some of the axes she'd used on the Hellmouth, not knowing any names of course, but comparing them to some in the collection Gimli carried with him, indicating the rough size and shape of the blade. When she would describe the axe, he would identify it properly for her and demand to know how she had used it, and what it had been used to slay. When she had finally finished giving her accounts of demons killed with axes, Dawn was prodded to move on to other weaponry she'd come across.  
She jumped right into telling Gimli about the crossbow, hoping to draw Legolas into the conversation. "See, a crossbow fires darts, just like Legolas' bow fires arrows," she turned to indicate the Elf behind her, pleased to see his eyes brighten and his ears perk up at the prospect of hearing something interesting. Dawn smiled at him and he grinned back, understanding her intentions.  
Dawn continued. "But a crossbow is much smaller than a longbow, and therefore has less range. It's not really used for range, though, we had other, more technological weapons for that sort of thing," she giggled to herself, remembering the Scooby Gang's stories of Buffy using a rocket launcher to literally blow the Judge away.  
"Bah! If it's so small, what was this crossbow of yours useful for?" Gimli asked, interrupting her reverie.  
"Well, accuracy mainly," Dawn told him. "See, because the crossbow is held flat, when the dart is loaded, which is pretty much a short arrow minus those funky little feathers on the end, it is very easy to aim, makes it wicked accurate, especially for dusting vamps."  
She shrugged and finished. "I dunno. Wasn't so great with the crossbow myself, usually that was Buffy's thing."  
Legolas frowned at the back of Dawn's head. She was facing forwards to speak to Gimli, but he could hear that same note of resentment in her voice that had crept in when she had spoken of her sister back in Lothlorien.  
Suddenly, they heard Aragorn's voice floating softly over the water. "Look, Frodo, the Argonath," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. The entire Fellowship looked up, seeing on either side of the river two massive statues, great Kings carved from rock. Dawn gasped. They were magnificent.  
"King-guy-much," she breathed, noticing the likeness of the statues to their fearless leader.  
Legolas smiled at her recognition. "Yes, they are very much like him, for they are his kin," he told her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the North," Aragorn declared a short while later when they had beached their boats on the western shore. Their journey down the river had come to an end at last. Nobody was particularly sorry to leave the boats behind.  
Gimli looked up at the Ranger. He was crouched by a small fire, feeding twigs to the flames. "Oh yes? Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better!"  
Pippin, sitting next to the Dwarf, looked at him, taken aback.  
Gimli continued. "A festering, stinking marshland, far as the eye can see."  
"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, master Dwarf," Aragorn spoke down to Gimli.  
Dawn's eyebrow's shot up. 'King-guy, you bitch!' she thought to herself. Gimli was sputtering with rage. "A dwarf to recover strength!" he growled.  
Meanwhile, Legolas, who had been staring out into the forest, as if he was seeing something approach, turned to Aragorn. "We should leave now," he told the Ranger, his lyrical voice full of worry.  
"Orcs patrol the eastern shore, we must wait for cover of dark," Aragorn justified.  
Legolas sighed. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind. Something draws near, my spidey senses can feel it."  
Aragorn stared at his friend, completely baffled as to what 'spidey senses' were. Dawn caught Legolas' eye and they exchanged proud grins over his vocabulary before the Elf turned back to the Ranger. Aragorn held his friend's gaze for a long moment. He knew Legolas' concerns were not to be taken lightly, but there was nothing they could do but watch and wait.  
Merry wandered into the camp with more firewood, stopping at the fire to drop it.  
Gimli was muttering to Pippin, "Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit."  
"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked, dusting his hands off and looking around the campsite.  
At Merry's words, Sam, who had been dozing in a corner, sprang up guiltily, looking about. Aragorn's gaze quickly scanned the campsite, noticing that Boromir's shield was resting against a tree, its owner nowhere to be found.  
  
* * * * * 


	4. Chapter 4: Comings and Goings

Frodo wandered about Amon Hen aimlessly, lost in thought. He had told no-one of his talk with Galadriel in his mind, not even Sam, but the decision was weighing heavily on him. He knew the time was near, when he would have to abandon his friends and go on to Mordor alone. He was beginning to feel uneasy and looked about him nervously.  
The reason for his unease was clear to Frodo when Boromir stepped out from behind a tree with an armload of firewood. He knew Boromir could feel the pull of the ring increasing every day. He unconsciously took a step back.  
"None of you should wander alone, you especially," Boromir gave him a funny look. "So much depends on you."  
Frodo remained silent. Boromir approached him. "I know why you seek solitude- you suffer. I see it day by day. Are you sure you do not suffer needlessly?"  
Frodo thought a moment before speaking. "I know what you would say, and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart."  
Boromir looked taken aback. "Warning? Against what? We're all afraid, Frodo. But to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have, don't you see, that is madness!"  
He became angry, throwing down the firewood. "I ask only for the strength to defend my people! If you would but lend me the ring...."  
Frodo began to back away.  
"Why do you recoil? I am no thief."  
"You are not yourself," Frodo told the man before trying to leave.  
Boromir snapped. "You fool! It was not yours save by unhappy chance. It could have been mine- it should be mine! Give it to me!" He chased down the Hobbit easily, knocking him over and pinning him.  
"No!' Frodo cried, struggling against the huge mass above him. He managed to put the ring on and disappeared. With a quick kick to Boromir, he was away, running as fast as his short legs would carry him.  
He ignored Boromir's remorseful cries to come back and ran to the top of Amon Hen, till images of the Eye overcame him. He fell from the stone, landing hard on the ground even as he yanked the ring off.  
A heavy foot slammed onto the rock in front of him. "Frodo?" Aragorn asked.  
"It has taken Boromir," he breathed.  
Aragorn's eyes flashed furiously. "Where is the ring!?" he demanded.  
Frodo scrambled away from him, crying "Stay away!"  
Aragorn slowed in his pursuit, holding his hands out in a gesture of peace. "I swore to protect you."  
"Can you protect me from yourself?" The Hobbit's question stunned Aragorn, forcing all his greatest fears to the surface. "Would you destroy it?"  
Aragorn came to Frodo. He reached out a hand to the ring, hearing it's seductive call.  
Aragorn..... Aragorn..... Elessar.  
He dropped to his knees in front of Frodo. He put his hand over Frodo's and gently squeezed the tiny fingers over the ring. He pushed the hand into Frodo's chest. His grey eyes were deep and sad, glistening with tears. "I would've gone with you to the end. Into the very fires of Mordor," he swore.  
"I know."  
Aragorn's gaze shifted to Sting, sheathed at Frodo's side. It was glowing blue. "Run, Frodo. Run. Run!"  
The Ringbearer took off down the hill as Aragorn turned to face an army the most disgusting creatures he had ever seen: the Uruk-Hai. He silently blessed his sword against his forehead and ploughed into the sea of bodies, slicing and chopping as he went.  
Hearing the distinctive cry of "Elendil!" from Aragorn amidst the sounds of battle very close by, Legolas shot Dawn and Gimli a look.  
Wordlessly, they sprinted into the fray. Legolas was the first to arrive, bursting from behind a stone pillar and dropping two of the Uruk- Hai with his arrows before they even knew he was there. Gimli came behind, letting one of his throwing axes fly. Dawn was barely beyond, sliding around her companions to meet with the Uruk-Hai.  
She was too distracted to take much notice as Legolas, stabbing an enemy through the eye with an arrow before shooting it into another, called out, "Aragorn- go!"  
The three provided cover for the Ranger as he took off down the hill, fighting his way through the sea of Uruks to ensure that Frodo escaped safely. Unbeknownst to them, Merry and Pippin had managed to already orchestrate the Hobbit's escape, selflessly drawing their monstrous enemy into chasing them away from Frodo.  
They fought hard and caught up with Aragorn, the four of them ploughing through the seemingly endless army together. The males often looked towards Dawn in between slaying Uruks, worried for her safety. They knew she could fight, but they also knew she'd never faced a battle quite like this.  
Legolas gave a small grin as he watched her out of the corner of her eye. She was doing ok- blood and sweat dripped off her, her cream coloured shirt was blackened with Uruk blood. She was outmatched in size, number and strength, but she was smart. She ducked and dodged and awaited an opening to inflict her blow. She'd lost the element of surprise she'd had at first, where the enemy had assumed she would be easy prey, being a girl. They'd seen too many of their brothers fall before her to make that mistake any longer.  
Suddenly, a horn sliced through the sounds of their battle.  
Legolas stared in the direction of the sound. "The horn of Gondor!" he stated.  
"Boromir!" Aragorn realised, sprinting towards the sound. Dawn, weary but still strong, turned and followed Man, Elf and Dwarf down the slope of Amon Hen.  
She soon lost sight of Aragorn. Dawn, Gimli and Legolas had been once again caught in the midst of many of their enemy, but Aragorn had slipped through them, relentlessly pursuing the sounds of Boromir's horn.  
By the time they fought their way free and began to make their way in the direction they'd last seen Aragorn heading, the battle was winding down. None of them understood it, they'd slain many, but there were also a great number of them that, as if heeding some unspoken command, had fled from them for no obvious reason.  
They spread out on the short run to Aragorn, and Legolas, being the fastest, arrived in the clearing first. He stopped, staring before him with that almost familiar shock and confusion burning through him. Aragorn was laying over the fallen form of Boromir, who was gasping out his last words of regret.  
Legolas sensed Dawn enter the clearing behind him. He heard her breath catch, feeling the moment she was stopped dead in her tracks by the sight of Boromir. Legolas held out his hand to her, but she ignored it, instead crashing into his torso, her arms winding around his waist. He brought his hand up to cradle her head, stroking the sweat-drenched hair. Neither of them tore their eyes from the scene before them, watching Boromir's death with a sort of sick fascination. They heard Gimli coming up and leaning on his axe beside them, letting his breath out in a rough sigh as if to say 'not another one'.  
Aragorn leaned over the body and kissed Boromir's forehead. Only Legolas heard his whisper. "Be at peace, son of Gondor."  
The four of them moved together and began to speak. Dawn, after answering them that yes, she was fine, did not speak for a long while. It amazed her, how easily they could discuss the disgusting things she had just seen. They quickly decided that they should bury Boromir at sea, since they had no time to bury him properly. Aragorn told them that Merry and Pippin had been captured.  
"We have to find them!" Dawn cried, breaking her silence.  
"What of Frodo, and Sam?" Legolas asked, his indecision clear.  
"I let Frodo go," Aragorn announced. None of them questioned this, they all understood.  
While they were busy preparing a boat and placing Boromir's body in it, Legolas pulled Dawn aside and handed her a soft bundle. "Here, put this on."  
She looked down at herself. She hadn't realised she was so filthy. She looked around her at her companions, they weren't nearly as dirty. Maybe their battle experience had taught them how to avoid splattering blood, she figured. She felt Legolas plant a light kiss on her hot forehead. Dawn gratefully accepted the offering and ducked off into the trees.  
Her muscles began to ache, now that the adrenaline had left her body. She was surprised, and secretly very proud to note that her only injury seemed to be a very small scratch just above her right elbow. It had already closed over even. Painfully, Dawn unbuttoned the cotton shirt Galadriel's ladies had given her, feeling the material slip off her screaming muscles to the ground. As she unwrapped Legolas' shirt, she noticed that her bra was also incredibly dirty, some of the Uruk blood having seeped through her clothing to her underwear and her skin. She grimaced. She didn't like it, but she'd just have to stay dirty for the time being. Dawn slipped the shirt Legolas had given her over her head. It was blue-grey and identical to the one that he wore himself under his tunic. The sleeves covered her hands even. It was long, too, coming half way down to her knees. If she had been back in Sunnydale, she'd probably have worn it as a dress.  
By the time she made her way back to the river, her companions were finished with Boromir and waiting for her so they could farewell their friend.  
Dawn listened, her tears glistening in her eyes but not falling as Aragorn and Legolas each sang a verse or two to honour their fallen comrade. The boat disappeared over the falls of Rauros.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Quickly, the four turned to the task at hand. Taking very few supplies, only what was absolutely necessary, they set off after Merry and Pippin. For Dawn, the next four days seemed to bleed together. She was able enough, but the pace Aragorn and Legolas set was almost torturous. She silently cursed them for their fitness, and then she silently cursed herself for not exercising more when she was back in Sunnydale. She took a perverted comfort in the fact that Gimli was faring worse than her. She often heard him a little ways behind, cursing and grumbling as he stumbled over the uneven ground in his armour. She would've laughed if she wasn't so sick with worry over the Hobbits.  
By Aragorn's skill, they'd learned that they were on the right track, and slowly gaining on the Uruk-Hai. They'd also learned that it was possible at least one of them had survived thus far: Aragorn had picked up an Elven brooch from a Lothlorien cloak not long ago. But hope was fading. It was impossible for them to track by dark, and Dawn knew that she and Gimli at least would not have the stamina to go on without rest.  
But Legolas despaired in the darkness, knowing in his heart that every hour they rested the Uruk-Hai went on, stealing hope from them with every step. Each night, while the others slept, he vigilantly watched over them. When they awoke at various times throughout the night, they would see him pacing across the camp, sometimes silent, sometimes singing soft Elvish songs. Or they'd barely be able to catch a glimpse of him, the sentry concealed in the surrounding trees. Or sometimes he would be sitting, and Dawn would stir to find gentle hands tracing over the features of her face. Dawn liked those times the best. She'd wake up, mumbling something incoherent, and feel a warm kiss on her lips and a gentle voice telling her to sleep. It was like a comforting dream.  
On the fourth day, just when the four hunters were their closest to despair, the approach of a great host on horseback became apparent. They had entered the country of Rohan and decided to rest in the cover of a large rock and wait to speak to the riders, who were travelling up the Uruks trail.  
"What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?" Aragorn cried, revealing himself as a hundred horses thundered past.  
The host turned and encircled them, and the four found themselves staring down the points of a hundred sharp spears. Dawn gulped. 'Not so good,' she thought.  
One tall rider came forward from the pack to address them. "Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?" he demanded.  
Aragorn spoke. "I am called Strider, I came out of the North. I am hunting Orcs."  
The rider dismounted and handed his spear to a nearby rider. He drew his sword, facing up to Aragorn. "You know little of Orcs, if you hunt them in this manner. You'd have been the prey had you ever overtaken them. Yet that is no name for a Man you give, Strider. And strange too is your raiment. Have you sprang out of the grass? How did you escape our sight? Are you elvish folk?"  
"No, only one of us is an Elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favour of the Lady go with us."  
The rider's expression changed from wonder to hardness. He had heard stories of the Sorceress of the Golden Wood and was now weary of what strange powers these travellers may possess. "The Elf-witch of the Woods!" he said. He turned to Legolas, Gimli and Dawn. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?" he demanded. Then he took a closer look at Dawn. "You travel with a girl!" he cried, outraged.  
Dawn's eyes flashed furiously. But Aragorn's voice, calm and collected, held back the retort that was already forming on her lips.  
"We travel with a fellow warrior, brave as any in your host."  
The rider was dubious. "That would take some effort to convince me of. What is your name, Lady?"  
"I'm Dawn Summers, who the hell are you?" Dawn shot back.  
The rider stared down at her a moment before answering. "I am named Eomer son of Eomund, and am called the Third Marshal of Riddermark."  
"Isn't that nice," Dawn returned sarcastically. Legolas put a hand on her arm, a silent bid for her to keep herself in check. Unfortunately, he did not convey the same message to Gimli, who spoke next.  
"Well, Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."  
Eomer's eyes blazed. "I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground.  
"He stands not alone," said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell."  
Dawn watched, bemused as Legolas lost his temper. She worried for a moment as Eomer raised his sword, but once again, Aragorn smoothed the situation over in his own unique manner. He threw back his cloak and drew out the shining blade of Anduril. "Elendil!" he cried. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, Estel, and the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!"  
"Don't forget King-guy," Dawn was quick to remind him.  
"Thank you, Key-girl," he returned.  
Aragorn felt a hundred and five pairs of eyes on him, one hundred and two riders and his three companions, who had never seen him in such a mood before. Eomer seemed to have shrunk and lost all authority under the dominating figure of Aragorn. He sent the Rohirrim away and indicated for Aragorn to continue.  
Aragorn quickly explained how they were tracking friends, and had followed the trail thus far. Eomer swore that the Uruks were destroyed, but no Hobbits had been found when they piled and burned the carcasses. Then Eomer quickly related to them all the latest evils that had befallen his Kingdom. Despair was evident in the young Marshal, only a few years older than Dawn, as he spoke of Saruman's poisoning of King Theoden, his uncle's mind, and the darkness enveloping their land.  
Despite his most heartfelt pleas for the aid of Isildur's heir and his worthy companions, Aragorn was insistent that they continue the search for Merry and Pippin whilst even the slightest glimmer of hope remained. Eomer resigned himself to Aragorn's decision and loaned them their three riderless horses, on the condition that they brought them to Edoras to prove to his uncle that his judgement to not demand they appear before the King before being given leave to wander free in Rohan was not an error.  
Eomer himself brought a white mare to Dawn. "Can you ride, my Lady?" he asked gently.  
"Yeah, I can get by," Dawn replied, remembering Tara taking her riding a few times. She had loved every moment, she adored horses.  
"This is Lightfoot," Eomer offered a hand to Dawn and helped her mount. Before turning the reins over to her, Eomer caught her eye. "Lady Dawn, I am sorry if my words offended you earlier. I meant no such slight to your character or abilities. Please accept my humblest apologies, my Lady."  
Dawn looked down into Eomer's dark eyes. She saw the years of hardened experience in battle that could not conceal his pain and despair, and she felt an affinity with the young Marshal, though nowhere near as strong as she had felt with Frodo. "I accept your apology, Eomer. Though I have a request to make of you," she said, her eyes dancing.  
Eomer held her gaze and realised how much he felt he knew this girl. He realised she had lost family, too. So like himself, and so like his sister. He nodded, indicating her to name her price.  
"Call me Dawn. 'Bye, Eomer."  
"Farewell, Dawn." He turned and addressed the waiting Rohirrim. "Ride!" he commanded, and then they were gone.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Hope you're enjoying. Don't forget to R&R, ~Anoron 


	5. Chapter 5: Burnt Fingers and Holy Crap

The remaining Fellowship turned back to their hunt. The horses set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the Fangorn Forest, looming closer in their eyes, a thick smoke still rising to one side of the trees, where Eomer had said the Uruk-Hai burning had taken place.  
They finally reached the trees and dismounted. When Aragorn came to help him back to the ground, Gimli was ecstatic to be back on his own two feet. Dawn stood by Lightfoot, covering her mouth and nose from the stench of the burning bodies. Aragorn and Legolas stood to the side, looking about for signs of life, but Gimli began to pick his way through the smoking rubble with an axe. He came across something and held it up for the others to see.  
It was the softest Dawn had ever heard his gruff voice. "One of the elven belts."  
The realisation swept over them as one. Dawn's legs collapsed from beneath her, her body shaking with silent sobs as she huddled on the ground. "We failed them," Gimli said. Legolas stood still, his head bowed, eyes closed and hand over his heart. "Hiro ith ab wanath," he murmured. Dawn absently wondered what that meant. Aragorn's voice cut through the eerie silence of the moment. He let out a great, tortured yell and kicked at a nearby helmet.  
The Ranger sank to his knees. Something on the ground caught his attention. "A Hobbit lay here," he realised sadly, indicating a patch of bent grass, and the space next to it. "And the other."  
He looked and realised that the tracks went further. He began to follow them, working the puzzle aloud as he went. "They crawled... their bonds were cut..." he stood, breaking into a run in his excitement at what the tracks might mean. The others watched, barely daring to hope Aragorn was right.  
"The tracks lead away from the battle!" Suddenly, he stopped and found himself staring up at the edge of the ominous forest. "... Into Fangorn Forest."  
"Fangorn Forest," Gimli breathed. "What madness drove them in there?"  
Dawn's tears of sorrow had quickly become tears of happiness. She bounced up to her feet. "But they're alive! What could be so bad about this Fangorn Forest? All we gotta do is go in there and get 'em out."  
"Dawn may not know the evils of Fangorn, but she is right," Aragorn said. "We must follow them."  
Everyone was in agreement to this without question. They ploughed straight into the trees. Less than two minutes after stepping under the first of the eaves of the Fangorn, Dawn turned to Legolas. "Ok, I get it now. This place is maxi-wig territory," she shivered. It felt as if the trees were watching her every move.  
Legolas cocked an eyebrow at her terminology and she gave him a grim smile.  
"Let's just say that if I had spidey senses, they'd be going nuts right about now."  
Legolas nodded his sympathy at her discomfort. "Yes, this Forest is old- very old. Full of memory. And anger." He took her hand and they walked for a while together. Aragorn was too involved in tracking the Hobbits and Gimli too caught up in his own discomfort to notice the familiarity that Dawn and Legolas had settled into.  
They heard a terrible grumbling all around them. Gimli lifted his axe with a cry and the grumbling deepened.  
"Gimli- lower your axe!" Aragorn hissed at him.  
"Oh," the Dwarf said, instantly obeying.  
Legolas, meanwhile, had dropped Dawn's hand and moved ahead a little.  
"Aragorn, nad na ennas," he said with some urgency in his soft voice.  
"Man cenich?" Aragorn replied.  
Dawn looked at Gimli and shrugged as if to say, 'I don't know what the hell they're talking about either'.  
"The White Wizard approaches," Legolas said.  
"Do not let him speak, he will put a spell on us," Aragorn reminded them all urgently. All hands flew to weapons of choice.  
On Aragorn's signal, they gave a great yell and tried to attack. But a bright white glow came from the Wizard and Legolas found his arrow harmlessly deflected away, as was Gimli's axe. Both Aragorn and Dawn cried out in pain, dropping their swords, which had become red-hot in their hands. They stared as a figure became apparent in the glow, though his face was still concealed.  
Dawn clutched her burnt fingers to her chest as a deep, unsettling voice began to speak.  
"You are tracking the footsteps of two Hobbits. They passed this way, the day before yesterday. They met with someone whom they did not expect to. Does that give you comfort?"  
"Who are you? Show yourself," Aragorn demanded.  
Three of them gasped as the Wizard stepped out of the light. Gimli and Legolas bowed in the ways of their people. Aragorn stared in disbelief. Dawn, still clutching her fingers, looked at them as if they had lost their minds.  
"It cannot be," Aragorn murmured. "You fell."  
"Through fire, and water," Gandalf replied and quickly related his defeat of the Balrog, and his return from death.  
He looked at the four companions, not surprised in the least at the first sight of Dawn. "I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."  
"Gandalf!" Aragorn said.  
The Wizard's forehead creased, as if remembering something long forgotten to him. Slowly, he spoke. "Gandalf? Yes, I remember. That was my name, Gandalf the Grey."  
The Dwarf nodded happily. "Gandalf," he echoed Aragorn.  
A twinkle came into Gandalf's eye. "I am Gandalf the White," he told them. He looked at Dawn. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear Miss Summers- Galadriel spoke well of you."  
Dawn smiled nervously. "Hey..." she said lamely. She could do little more than stare up at the Wizard in wonder as he gave messages to the others from Galadriel and bade that they should ride with all speed to Edoras, for war had come to Rohan. He was so majestic, almost as wondrous as the Lady of Light herself. He promised that Merry and Pippin were safe in the keeping of the Ents for the time being and led them from Fangorn Forest.  
  
* * * * *  
  
As they rode up to the gates of Edoras, Gandalf cautioned them. "Do not look for welcome here."  
Aragorn nodded. He'd sensed the evil settled over Rohan the second they'd set foot into the country some days ago. The five kept silent, riding their horses slowly up the hill, through the streets of the small rural city. At the summit stood a palace which Gandalf identified as the Golden Hall of Meduseld.  
Dawn and Aragorn looked up at the palace, seeing a young woman on the steps. Dawn gasped. It was the woman she had seen in the mirror. Aragorn simply regarded her with curiosity and pity. She was coldly pretty, young and proud, but also incredibly helpless. He looked away a moment as Gimli grumbled "You'd find more cheer in a grave yard," observing the sombre citizens from his place on Arod's back behind Legolas.  
When the Ranger looked back, the woman had disappeared.  
They dismounted and climbed the steps to the doors of the palace.  
"Ah," Gandalf said as a guard stood in front of them.  
"I am the Doorward of Theoden. Hama is my name," the guard declared. "Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter. By order of... Grima Wormtongue."  
Dawn almost snorted. What kind of name was Grima Wormtongue?  
Gandalf studied the guard. He quickly assessed Hama's true character, and noted the hint of disgust in his voice as he'd spoken the name of Grima. He nodded slowly. He unsheathed his sword, Glamdring, and laid it against the wall.  
Dawn sighed and handed over Me'ahyanda. Gimli and Legolas handed over their weaponry, not entirely happy with having to do so. Legolas gave a quick twirl of his twin daggers before letting them go. Aragorn found it very painful to part with Anduril. He made Hama swear that it would be touched by no-one.  
Finally, Hama turned back to Gandalf. He spoke, a little embarrassed. "Your staff," he prodded.  
Dawn rolled her eyes. Gandalf looked upset, leaning heavily on his staff. "You would not part an old man with his walking stick?"  
Hama regarded the Wizard with wonder. He knew that the staff was powerful, and that Wormtongue had given a particular order that Gandalf should be deprived of his staff. But there was something that made him nod them through, disregarding the order.  
He deliberately ignored the wink Gandalf threw slyly to Aragorn, who smothered a smile as Gandalf leaned on the Elf's arm for support. They were on their way to see the King.  
"The courtesy of your Hall has lessened somewhat of late, Theoden King!" boomed Gandalf as they approached a withered old figure crumpled in a throne at the far end of the room.  
The small, greasy figure next to the throne leaned in close to the King, whispering in his ear. Dawn shuddered. Grima Wormtongue, she presumed.  
She couldn't help but let out a quiet "Eew," at the sight of the weasely man. Her friends smirked before controlling their expressions to hide their amusement.  
The broken King looked at them through heavy eyes. "Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" his gnarled voice asked.  
"A just question, my liege," Grima told him when the King looked his way, almost as if he was asking for his advisor's approval.  
Dawn paid the gross man no more attention. Like Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli, she began to watch from the corner of her eye as a group of sinister looking guards advanced, flanking them on either side.  
Grima was still speaking. "Why indeed should we welcome you, Master Stormcrow? Lathspell I name you, Ill-news; and ill news is an ill guest they say. Spies of the Golden Wood they are, my Lord," he hissed at Theoden. "Look at their raiment!"  
Gandalf stared at the advisor. The others were still intent on the flanking guards, now close enough to attack at any moment. "The wise speak only of what they know, Grima son of Galmod. A witless worm you have become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls!" Gandalf declared.  
He let go of Legolas' arm and raised his staff high into the air.  
"His staff," Grima was almost whining, his fear apparent. "I told you to take the Wizard's staff." He shot a look to the guards who immediately attacked.  
The four had no choice but to fight a roomful of Grima's men hand to hand. Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn were throwing punches and elbows left, right and centre. Dawn found she had been overlooked by the guards. She was dimly aware of Gandalf moving forward, his path cleared by his companions. He was chanting as he approached the throne.  
Dawn leapt into the fray. She knew instinctively that her friends were aiming to incapacitate, not to harm, so she settled into using wrestling moves, striking at the guards only when necessary.  
Three of them had come at Aragorn simultaneously. Dawn flew over and clotheslined one, knocking him to the floor. She then turned to another and used the same hip-toss that she'd used to defeat Boromir. She grinned to herself as she felt the satisfying thunk of a body hitting the wooden floor.  
Aragorn, having thrown his last remaining attacker in that group off into a wall, returned Dawn's grin. "Will you teach me how to do that?" he asked as they turned to face the next onslaught.  
Legolas noticed that there were less guards attacking them now. He darted his eyes to the entrance and realised that the Doorward, Hama, had followed them in. He was holding back the guards who Legolas sensed were loyal to Theoden, not Wormtongue.  
The Elf tossed his head to his left and saw that Gimli had pinned Wormtongue to the floor with his heavy foot. As the greasy man writhed beneath him, Gimli growled at him, "I would stay still if I were you."  
Looking in the other direction, Legolas couldn't help but smile. Gandalf had reached the top of the dais and Theoden was shaking on his throne. Dawn and Aragorn were dispensing of the last two attacking guards. Aragorn was attempting that manoeuvre Dawn had done. He was successful, the man flew over his shoulder and thudded to the floor.  
Dawn crouched and twirled, knocking the last guard down with a leg sweep. She stood, her and Aragorn quickly rejoining Legolas and Gimli. "King-guy, you kicked ass," she told the Ranger, beaming proudly at him before they turned their attention back to the throne.  
Theoden was laughing sinisterly. "If I go, Theoden dies," Saruman's voice said through the King's mouth.  
"You did not kill me; you will not kill him!" Gandalf retorted. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." The Wizard redoubled his efforts to expel Saruman's essence from Theoden.  
Something stirred in the room. Dawn felt herself pushed a little to the side as a slight, but strong figure brushed between her and Legolas, making her way to the King. Aragorn was quick to act. He reached out and grabbed the arm of the woman he'd seen on the stairs earlier, forcing her to remain by his side.  
She stared at him through flashing icy blue eyes for a moment and tried to pull her arm free. Aragorn held tight. "Wait," he hissed at her.  
An impossibly bright light blinded Dawn and all the others. Theoden was thrown back against his throne as Gandalf pointed his staff, and with a last cry from the Wizard, the body went limp. Saruman had been expelled from Theoden.  
"Holy crap!" exclaimed Dawn.  
There was a stunned pause in the room. Aragorn fumbled as the girl wrenched herself free of his grip and flew to the King's side. She knelt at his right hand, tears glistening in her eyes.  
"Uncle?" she cried almost silently.  
Slowly, the King's head lifted. It seemed as though years melted away from him as his form straightened. His eyes cleared and he began to take the form of a strong, dignified middle-aged man. A King. The woman at his side dared to breathe a sigh of relief and smile through her tears.  
Theoden turned slowly to look down at her. "I know you," he realised in a tired voice. "Eowyn," he said, bringing a hand to his niece's face.  
She clutched at it, crying.  
"Eowyn," he said again, his recognition clearer in his strengthening voice. He smiled at her, and as he did, many lines of care were chased from his face and did not return. He stood, Eowyn at his side and turned to Gandalf.  
"Breathe the free air, my friend," Gandalf told him. Theoden's eyes wandered around the room, roving over his guards, his niece, the Wizard, Gandalf's companions.... the King's eye found Wormtongue, still cowering beneath Gimli's boot.  
His eyes hardened.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Wormtongue went flying out the doors of Meduseld, and tumbled unceremoniously down the steps. Hama stepped aside, dusting off his hands and admiring his handiwork as the traitor grovelled on his knees.  
Theoden stormed down the stairs of the palace to stand over Wormtongue, the others in tow.  
"I've only ever served you my Lord!" he cried.  
Theoden kicked him viciously in the stomach, sending him further down the slope. "Your leechcraft ere long would've had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" he growled, his fury taking him over.  
He took the sword of a nearby soldier and raised it high above his head, preparing to strike.  
"No!" Aragorn cried, wrenching the sword from Theoden's grasp. "Peace, my Lord! Enough blood has been spilt on his account."  
Theoden deflated, regaining control of himself as the wisdom of Aragorn's words sank in.  
Dawn, standing next to Eowyn, was eyeing the woman curiously. She was not too much older than Dawn, definitely between hers and Eomer's ages. Dawn guessed she was a year or two younger than Buffy. But Dawn was suddenly very interested in the gleam that had come into Eowyn's eye when her uncle had raised the sword. She'd seen enough bloodlust in her eighteen years to know how to recognise it. Eowyn wanted that man dead. But when Aragorn had intervened, Eowyn's eyes had dropped, her cheeks colouring a little, and Dawn couldn't be sure if it was shame or something else that had effected the woman.  
In a matter of moments, the Wormtongue had been banished from Rohan. The soldiers and the citizens gave a shout of joy to see their rejuvenated King. Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan and a Shieldmaiden, had come again to her uncle's side.  
"Where is Theodred?" the King asked quietly, almost to himself, the events of late still very fuzzy in his mind. "Where is my son?"  
Eowyn cringed, tears springing to her eyes. She blinked them back immediately, she had already shed too many in her life, for one as strong and capable as she. Gandalf studied her face and knew immediately what the young Lady had to say. He nodded silently, urging her to find her courage and her voice.  
Eowyn spoke in a quiet voice that did not falter. "My Lord... Uncle, five days ago did Eomer ride home to Edoras, bringing with him cousin Theodred who was wounded gravely. We tried to convince you to go to his chamber, but the Wormtongue's hold was too strong, and instead Eomer was banished from Rohan," she looked down a moment, then met her King's eyes squarely. She could see her uncle's eyes widen, as if he knew what she would say next.  
"But this morning, my Lord, when I went to Theodred, he had died during the night. I am sorry, Uncle. Then Wormtongue accosted me in Theodred's chamber and I went away to evade him. By the time I came back to your side, Master Gandalf and his companions had arrived..." she trailed off, and Aragorn, the closest to her besides Theoden and Gandalf, watched in admiration as she swallowed her tears before they came. She was strong, which made her helplessness all the more poignant.  
A light went out in Theoden's eyes.  
  
* * * * *  
  
They buried Theodred quickly. Gandalf stood beside the King at his only child's grave offering all his support to the grieving father. Eowyn stood a little beyond, hard and cold as she watched the body of her cousin sink into the earth. None looked close enough to see that she often squeezed her eyes shut tight, dispelling the tears that would not seem to stop welling in the icy blue pools. Dawn stood with her friends a little further back, remaining respectfully silent and distant enough to give the mourners their space.  
Dawn found herself strangely affected by the sight of someone being buried. Aside from Boromir's hasty burial at sea, the last funeral she'd been to had been Buffy's, who'd died after facing the First, although the Slayer had been resurrected only months later. She thought back a little further, to her mother's funeral and cringed. Something in Dawn could not understand that she was no longer part of this mortal cycle. It almost made her sad.  
Legolas looked down at the young woman by his side whom he'd come to care so deeply for. He watched as pain and confusion and sadness flitted through her bright, expressive eyes. He took her hand and felt her squeeze it gratefully.  
A minute later, Theoden called Eowyn to him. He spoke to her a moment, then kissed her brow. The Shieldmaiden turned and strode purposefully towards her guests. Dawn noticed how she carried herself with dignity, even through her pain. Just like Buffy.  
She bowed her head a little upon reaching them, and they returned the gesture. "My Lords, my Lady, I fear we have not properly been introduced. I am Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, the White Lady and a Shieldmaiden of Rohan."  
Aragorn introduced himself and his companions. Eowyn smiled at each of them in turn before continuing.  
"My uncle requests that I apologise on his behalf, you have had a long, perilous journey and have not been received properly. The King asks that you forgive the discourteous reception, and in token of our gratitude for your assistance here, that you accept what hospitality we can offer in these times."  
Dawn smiled at her. Aragorn looked as if he would speak again, but she beat him to it. "We understand, Lady Eowyn. And we thank you for your generous offer, which we accept gratefully." Dawn wrinkled her nose and leaned a little closer to the other woman. "That does include a hot bath and laundry service, right?" she asked hopefully.  
A genuine smile spread across Eowyn's face as she regarded the strange, slightly younger woman before her. "Yes, Lady Dawn. We shall see about your bath right away," she promised and led them all back into Meduseld.  
  
* * * * *  
  
R&R ~Anoron 


	6. Chapter 6: Not Alone

Dawn sat around in a bathrobe. Eowyn had left her nearly an hour ago, taking Dawn's clothing with a promise that they'd be returned as soon as they were clean. She was grateful for the chance to have some laundry done for her, but Dawn did not want anything to happen to the clothing that Lady Galadriel had so generously given her, or the shirt that Legolas had loaned her.  
Eowyn had smiled her understanding. "I will see to it personally that they are returned to your chambers by the time the feast has concluded." Then the White Lady had said she needed to check on the preparations for Theoden's hastily ordered feast in honour of the guests, and told Dawn to bathe and she would be back with something suitable for Dawn to wear for the evening.  
While she was waiting, Dawn dried her hair, enjoying the feel of the clean strands hanging down her back. She fished in the ornate boxes on the dresser until she came across a pretty little silver clip. Then she brushed her hair out and twisted the bangs back from her face, fastening them together with the clip at the back of her head. She was just admiring her work when a knock came at the door.  
Eowyn came back in and handed her a dress. "This is one of mine," she said, indicating the fitted green velvet. "I believe it should be your size exactly, Lady Dawn."  
Dawn accepted the dress gratefully. "Thank you, my Lady. But if I'm gonna be borrowing your clothes all sister-like and stuff, I'd feel better if you just called me Dawn. Where I'm from, we don't really say all this 'my Lady'/'my Lord' stuff."  
Eowyn nodded. She liked this girl, she felt as if she knew her in a way. "Very well, Dawn. But you should call me Eowyn in that case, for I would only truly wish to loan my clothing to one I considered a friend," she replied, sitting on the edge of the large bed.  
"Deal," Dawn said, skipping off behind a screen to throw the dress on. Eowyn listened in amusement to the grunts coming from behind the screen as her new friend wrestled with the gown. The situation seemed under control and Dawn began to speak as she dressed.  
"So, Eowyn, if King Theoden is your uncle, and Eomund is your father, that makes Eomer your brother, right?"  
"Yes," Eowyn said, surprised that Dawn knew of her brother. "How did you know that?"  
Dawn stepped out from behind the screen and Eowyn smiled. She looked beautiful, the velvet of the gown set off her eyes and complemented her skin and hair perfectly. Dawn had to admit, this dress of Eowyn's did a lot more for her figure than any of the loose Elvish gowns she had worn in Lothlorien.  
Dawn shrugged by way of response to the question. "I met Eomer a few days ago. He introduced himself as the son of Eomund and spoke of your uncle. So I kinda just put two and two together. Plus you guys are kinda alike. So... why did he get banished?"  
Eowyn's face lost its smile, her eyes were heavy once more. "Wormtongue," she almost snarled the name. "When Eomer tried to tell Theoden of the Orc parties ravaging the lands at Saruman's command, Wormtongue had him banished for his 'war-mongering'. The man is a snake, his words are poison!"  
Dawn was a little taken aback by the vehemence of Eowyn's last statement. She stared a moment, wondering what caused the outburst. Suddenly, it clicked in Dawn's mind, the reason Eowyn was so brutal in her hatred of Wormtongue, the reason she'd wanted his blood spilled earlier that day.  
"That asshole tried it on with you, didn't he!?" Dawn half exclaimed, half questioned.  
Eowyn shot her a confused look. "What?"  
Dawn tried to find words that Eowyn would understand. "He tried to force a romantic... well, I guess that's not the word.... a physical kind of relationship with you."  
Eowyn dropped her head in shame and nodded. "He tried. 'Twas another reason for Eomer's banishment. My brother tried to protect me. He attacked Wormtongue, swearing that too long had he watched me and haunted my footsteps. His outburst only served as more reason for his banishment."  
Dawn looked on in sympathy. "Why are you so ashamed, Eowyn?" she asked softly. Eowyn's eyes locked onto Dawn, who loudly continued. "You shouldn't be anything but proud of yourself! You're strong, dammit! Too strong for some pathetic little weasel with a hard on to bring down! Now goddammit, stand up already and let's go eat coz I'm starving!"  
Eowyn's eyes blazed. She sprang to her feet. She had no idea what a pathetic little weasel with a hard on was, but it seemed a fitting description for Wormtongue. "Yes, you are right! Let's go!"  
She stopped a minute and looked seriously at Dawn. "Thank you, friend."  
Dawn smiled. "You're so welcome."  
They linked arms and marched to the dining hall, Eowyn asking "So how was my brother when you met with him.? Was he well?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
When the two ladies stepped into the hall, both noticed one thing straight away: Legolas' eyes lit up at the sight of Dawn. Dawn blushed and lowered her eyes.  
Eowyn leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. "What is this between you and Prince Legolas?"  
Dawn's eyebrows shot up. 'What the fuck?' she thought. 'Prince Legolas?' She recovered and just winked at her friend, who giggled and they made their way to the table, where Dawn found herself seated between Eowyn and Legolas.  
Under the table, she felt long, smooth fingers wrapping around her own. "You look well, Dawn," Legolas breathed in her ear.  
"Well, much as I was beginning to enjoy Orc-blood black, I think green is a little more my colour," she returned as lightly she could. She wasn't exactly used to beautiful, strong, noble Elf Princes complementing her.  
He laughed at her comment, then turned his attention to the head of the table, where Theoden had risen to speak.  
"My friends," the King began. "I would that you all enjoy this evening, it shall be the last of merriment in the foreseeable future of Rohan. For tomorrow, we make for the fortress of Helm's Deep. Too dark have the times become for us to remain in the openness of Edoras. The city shall empty! In the Deep shall we find sanctuary, as our forefathers had in times past. And I humbly request the aid of our new friends and allies, whom would be most welcome should they choose to accompany the Rohirrim on this treacherous road," he turned his gaze to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.  
It did not escape their notice that he had overlooked Dawn completely. She bristled, but let it slide for now. Her dinner had arrived. For the next few hours, they forgot the troubles of the world. They ate and drank as much as they desired, though Dawn was very careful not to take too much wine. She figured since she'd never really drank alcohol before, it wouldn't be a good idea to get herself plastered tonight. Her friends would never look at her the same again. Besides, it wouldn't help her to have a hangover in the morning.  
The conversation revolved around everything but battle. Gimli and Legolas in particular were prodded into discussions of their homelands. Dawn let her eyes rest affectionately on the Elf's face, enjoying the way it brightened as he described the wondrous Mirkwood Forest, his home, to a roomful of people who had never seen such a thing. Most of the Rohirrim had never seen an Elf before, believing, as Dawn had before she'd dropped into Middle-Earth, that they were a myth of times long forgotten. Either that, or they worked for Santa. Only Aragorn and Gandalf had been to Legolas' realm, and they found their minds almost transported back to Mirkwood through the Elf's words.  
At length, the feast wound down and the guests departed. Dawn made her way directly back to her room, excited at the prospect of a real bed. A few candles had been lit, and their dim glow was enough for Dawn to see by. She was pleased to find, as promised, her clothing folded neatly on the dresser. A long night-gown had also been left for her.  
She ignored the night-gown, instead sliding back into Legolas' shirt. Despite the fact that it had been plastered to her sweaty back for nearly a week and then miraculously washed clean, it still held that faint, comforting woodsy smell of Legolas. She loosely knotted the ties at her throat, holding the large shirt on her and wandered over to the window.  
She sat at the window, curling her bare legs up to hug to her chest and looked out at the busy people below. There were torches everywhere, lighting the land as people scurried back and forth to prepare for the long journey to Helm's Deep. Dawn smiled as she recognised Aragorn and Gimli amongst them, forgetting their need for rest as they toiled with the frightened citizens of Rohan. She also spotted Eowyn, a little away from the others, practising with a sword.  
Dawn watched as Aragorn came up behind Eowyn to block her blow. They began to lightly spar and speak, but Dawn was too far away to hear the words. Finally, Aragorn turned and resheathed the hunting knife he'd been using and walked away. Eowyn stared after him.  
The sound of a door softly opening and closing behind her brought Dawn's attention back to within her room. She turned to find Legolas standing just inside the room, staring at her. He was bare footed, and had taken his tunic and belt off, leaving him in only his shirt and pants. He was blushing a little.  
Dawn took in his blush and realised he was trying not to stare at her, since his shirt only reached her thighs, and with her legs folded up, the material barely stretched far enough to cover her underwear. She stood up with a sly smile, preparing to make him pay for not telling her he was a Prince.  
"I hope you don't mind, Legolas- I borrowed your shirt again. It was just so comfy, and I've never had the chance to wear the shirt of a Prince before."  
Legolas' eyes snapped up to her face. 'How had she found out?' he wondered. Then his mind went back to dinner, Eowyn had whispered something in her ear as they'd stood in the doorway, and Dawn had looked shocked as she stared across the room at him. Then she'd winked slyly at her new friend. He schooled his face to remain impassive.  
When he made no answer, Dawn shrugged. "Well, if you want it back now, you should take it," she said, moving to pull the shirt off.  
"Dawn!" Legolas cried out, shocked and embarrassed.  
Dawn looked passively back at him, but her eyes were shining with amusement. She was teasing him. He shook his head at her and broke into a grin as she crossed the room and gave him a quick hug and a kiss.  
"That's what you get for not telling me about being a Prince," she told him when they parted.  
"Is that so important?" he asked her.  
"No," she responded. "But it would've only been fair. I mean, I told you all my deepest darkest secrets, it would've been nice if the favour was returned."  
"I know. But, well... I saw the fun you were having with Aragorn's title...." he shrugged by way of an excuse.  
"So I guess I kinda scared you off then?" Dawn supplied, also shrugging it off.  
He nodded, and Dawn noticed something was bothering him. Something besides her legs. His eyes were sombre and his hair, she noted for the first time, was a little dishevelled. She took his hand and led him over to sit on the edge of the bed. She quickly pulled the braids from his hair and went to get the brush on the dresser, tossing the bands aside as she did so.  
He did not protest when she sat beside him, again tucking those distracting legs up so one was resting almost on his lap, the other he could feel behind his back. He had not had anyone touching his hair like this since he was very small, but Legolas found it oddly comforting as Dawn unwound his hair and began to brush it out with long, smooth strokes. He closed his eyes.  
"So, what's wrong?" Dawn asked a little while later.  
He sighed, but still didn't open his eyes. "Gandalf has gone. He left almost as soon as he finished his meal, gone to find Eomer and his banished Rohirrim. He hopes to bring them to Helm's Deep before-" Legolas broke off, not wanting to upset Dawn.  
He needn't have bothered. If he had been looking at her face, he would've seen the calmness in Dawn's eyes as she concentrated on his hair. "Before this Saruman guy flattens the entire country," she finished for him.  
At that, Legolas opened his eyes to look at her. He marvelled at her quiet composure, completely without arrogance. She knew this could be the end of her, but she was prepared to face it and refused to fear it, but was not so foolish as to presume she would definitely defeat it.  
"Why are you so strong?" he asked her softly, admiration ringing through his voice.  
Dawn tried to push his head to the side to she could continue brushing his hair. "Never had a choice," she lied.  
Legolas ducked out of the way of the brush and stared at her until she relented and told him the truth. "Ok, coz I wanted to prove my sister wrong. When I was fourteen, I overheard Buffy saying that I was just a little idiot who was going to get everyone killed. Not something a girl really wants to hear, y'know?" Her voice was soft as she tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind his pointy ear, but Legolas caught that familiar undertone to her words, and saw the flash in her eyes.  
"Why do you harbour such a resentment for your sister?"  
"Because she thinks I'm nothing," Dawn was surprised how easily the words fell from her lips. She hadn't even known she thought that.  
"That's not possible," Legolas told her. "Nobody in their right mind could ever look at you and think you are nothing. Your sister loved you, she was no doubt just trying to protect you from harm."  
Dawn had heard this a hundred times before. She tried harder to explain her life with Buffy to him. "I know that, but it was always like Buffy was so busy protecting me that she didn't even have time to see who I really was. It was just always going through the motions with her, protect the Key, that's your job. She never even knew I could fight well. She never gave me the chance to show her."  
She noticed Legolas looking at her silently, sympathy radiating from his deep blue eyes. She shook her head and forced herself back into reason. "I know, I'm just being a self-absorbed little brat. I love Buffy with all my heart, I owe her so much! It just gets so hard sometimes, being alone."  
To her surprise, Legolas grabbed her face, cupping it in his hands. "You are not alone," he swore to her, and kissed her.  
A fierce heat burned in them. Dawn relaxed against him, allowing his hands to explore her face, trailing down to her throat. She shivered a little as his fingers became entangled in the ties of the shirt, pulling them loose. She raised herself up on her knees and shifted around until she had one knee resting on either side of Legolas' body. Her shirt slipped off one shoulder. His head was tilted back, Dawn was above him and he broke the kiss, only to let his mouth wind its way down her face, her neck, and then moved on to the skin of her body that had been exposed when he'd unfastened her shirt.  
Dawn gasped as his tongue flicked lightly over her skin. She bent her head over his and ran her own tongue down his ear, starting at the point and finishing by nibbling at the lobe. She grinned to herself as she heard him groan at the touch. Super-sensitive ears, she figured, pleased with her discovery. She gave the tip of his ear a nip for good measure. Her hands wound their way to his waist and she tugged his shirt up over his head. Then she ran her hands down his bare chest, enjoying the feel of his tight muscles through the warmth of his skin.  
It never occurred to Legolas to stop her, let alone stop himself. He wrapped his arms around her and stood, lifting her with him. He turned and laid her gently on the bed, easing her down onto the pillows. Now he was above her, he realised with a devilish grin which was readily returned by his captive. He kissed her mouth hungrily.  
Again his lips traced down from her mouth to her throat, along her collarbone and beyond. Dawn watched with fascination, feeling as if she could almost see the line of fire Legolas was working down her body. She brought a hand up to run lightly over the tip of his ear, curious as to what the point would feel like to her fingers. The action earned her another groan.  
She was distracted from her work on his ears by electricity humming through her as a strong but gentle hand ran up the length of her leg. She lifted herself up slightly as his hands worked their way further up, catching on the shirt and sliding it over her head until it was gone.  
He tossed it aside, watching as it floated to the floor before turning back to Dawn. She was tugging at his wrist to pull him down onto her. He felt his pants slip away from his hips and a pair of strong, smooth legs wrap themselves around him.  
He lost himself in the warmth of Dawn as she buried her hands in his hair, her face pressed to his neck, breathing him in.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: Let me know what you think of this last scene here- does it work?? Thanks for reading, don't forget your R&R's ~Anoron 


	7. Chapter 7: A Brother and A Battle

Legolas lay awake, looking down at the sleeping woman in his arms. He brushed Dawn's hair back from her face, letting his fingers linger on her forehead. Daybreak was not far off and he knew Aragorn would be looking for him soon, counting on the ever-alert Elf to help him with the last minute preparations of the horses.  
But said Elf could not tear himself away. When Dawn had drifted off to sleep, her warm body pressed lightly against his, he had found that just to stare at her peaceful face was better rest than he'd had since leaving Lothlorien.  
He sighed, feeling more content than he'd ever remembered, and forced himself to slide out from under Dawn's still sleeping form, careful to cover her over with her blankets so she would not be cold. He pulled his pants on and turned for one last look at her, only to see that her eyes were fluttering open.  
He smiled down at her, captivated all over again. "Good morning," he said softly.  
Dawn stretched her arms up, yawning, and scrunched the blanket up to her. She cast a dubious eye to the window, where the dark was now not so dark. "You sure about that?" she mumbled sleepily before turning back to him.  
She was beginning to become more alert. Dawn propped herself up on one elbow, watching Legolas' lithe, muscular form as he reached for one of the shirts that had been thrown to the floor. "Running out on me?" she kidded as he straightened.  
Legolas leaned down to kiss her. "Never," he whispered a split second before his lips brushed over hers. "Aragorn will be looking for me by now. I must see to Arod before we begin the journey. You shall be called upon as well before long, I imagine. It will not be long before I see you again," he promised.  
Dawn grinned. "Better not be!"  
He had shrugged the shirt on in one quick movement and given her another light kiss. As he reached the door, Dawn called out to him.  
"Yes?" he asked, turning back to her.  
"Your hairbands," she prodded, nodding to where she had tossed them onto the dresser. He smiled at the comfortable way in which she organised his life, knowing what he needed even when he forgot. "And can you please check on Lightfoot for me while you're at it?" she called to his retreating form.  
When he was gone, Dawn, wide awake, threw herself back on the pillows and fought the urge to squeal like a schoolgirl.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The first of the two day trip to Helm's Deep passed without incident. Legolas and Gimli rode on Arod, talking idly to Eowyn and Theoden. Every now and then, the Elf's gaze found Dawn's, who was a little further back.  
They'd smother smiles and look away again, Dawn turning her attention back to Aragorn, who rode beside her on Hafusel. She had been telling him about a few of Buffy's battles, particularly their mini-war with the Mayor at graduation.  
He was amazed. "A giant snake, you say, Dawn? That is some great devilry."  
"Sure was, King-guy," she agreed. They fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the hoofbeats of their horses for a few minutes, until a thought popped into Dawn's head.  
"Hey, King-guy?" she piped up.  
"Yes, Key-girl?" he returned evenly.  
"I was just wonderin', how did you end up with so many names? I mean I have two- Dawn and Dawny, and I remember you telling Eomer all of them, the whole Strider/Aragorn/Elessar/Elfstone/ Isiludur's Heir/Dunadan/Estel, not to mention Eomer's Wingfoot and my King-guy additions. Where do they all come from?" she asked, curious.  
Aragorn smiled at her. Usually he did not like to discuss his background with those who weren't close enough to him to already know it, but he felt comfortable telling Dawn. He attributed it to the way she'd readily disclosed her past to him and Legolas in Lothlorien. He also wondered absently if her amazingly good mood today wasn't contagious. She'd been indomitably happy all day... as had Legolas, Aragorn realised with a start. He vowed to find out what kind of relationship had evolved between these two of his friends, watching in amusement as the Elf's eyes caught the Lady's once again and a secret smile passed between the pair.  
He shook himself from his thoughts and began to answer Dawn. He told her about Aragorn being his birth name, as the son of Arathorn, and that Strider had been bestowed upon him much in the way that Wingfoot and King- guy had. He enjoyed the way her green eyes danced merrily upon hearing this. Isildur's Heir was a pretty self-explanatory title, and Dunadan was another word for Ranger, so he moved on to his elvish names, Elessar and Estel.  
A thoughtful look came over her face as she contemplated his words. "Estel," she mused. "The Elvish word for hope."  
Dawn met Aragorn's eyes squarely and solemnly. "I think I like Estel the best. It suits you. May I use that name from now on?" she asked politely.  
Aragorn regarded the girl beside him for a moment. She seemed wiser somehow, as if she understood more than she'd ever let on before, understood more than he'd even said. As if she had grown up overnight. She was on the borderline of childhood and adulthood before, but now Aragorn found himself looking at a Lady.  
"You may, if you wish Seler'nin," he answered seriously. Then he smirked. "'Tis much better than King-guy, in any event."  
Dawn laughed happily, then broke off. "What does Seler'nin mean?"  
He gave her a half smile by way of response. "'Tis how you say 'my sister' in Elvish. I think it holds a grace and an affection worthy of you, my dear Dawny."  
Dawn blushed a little. "Thank you, Estel," she said quietly.  
They spent the remainder of the day together, chatting about their lives growing up. Aragorn found himself speaking more and more openly to Dawn, who was one of the most receptive listeners he'd ever encountered. Soon enough, he found he had disclosed the majority of his relationship to Arwen without even batting an eyelid.  
When he realised how much he'd told her, which included some things that only he and Arwen had known themselves until this point, he stopped suddenly, not meeting Dawn's eyes.  
"I understand, Estel," came a gentle voice.  
Aragorn stared at her. How could she possibly understand? Dawn noticed the look he was giving her, and launched into the story of Buffy and Angel's doomed relationship.  
When she looked up a little while later, she found she had accumulated quite an audience. "Ack!" she exclaimed, noticing for the first time that she and Aragorn were not alone. At her side was Arod, still bearing Legolas and Gimli, and Eowyn had appeared next to Aragorn.  
Everyone was staring at her. "Please, continue the story Dawn," Eowyn prompted. She had been engrossed with the tale as soon as she'd learned about the concept of a demon with a soul. She was a level-headed woman, but this story was so tragically romantic, it was impossible to resist.  
Dawn shrugged. "Don't know that there's much of a story left," she said, having nearly finished. "After graduation, Angel left just like he'd said he would. He moved to L.A., Los Angeles, which is about four hours away from Sunnydale. And he and Buffy had to rebuild their lives without each other. They still see each other every now and then, and whenever one is in trouble too big to face alone, the other is always there. But they both got on with their separate lives and they're both alive to tell the tale. There is a part of Buffy and Angel that will always be together no matter what separation they suffer," she concluded the story.  
Her eyes rested squarely on Aragorn. "The point about Buffy and Angel is that they loved each other well enough for the memory to sustain them. But that's only coz they had the courage to make the memories in the first place. And if they had half a chance, they'd take a hellava lot more than just a memory far even half a second more if they could. And it's not like there are any Angeluses around here. Why waste it?" she asked pointedly.  
Aragorn nodded. She did understand. She actually understood better than he did. Legolas watched the two humans holding each other's gaze with a soft smile. It had gone completely over Gimli and Eowyn's heads, but he knew that she'd just convinced Aragorn he was worthy of Arwen's love, if for no other reason than the fact that they were in love.  
"You tell a fine tale of tragedy, Dawn," Eowyn finally said.  
"Naw," Dawn shot back, looking past Aragorn to the other woman. "That was nothing. If you wanna hear tragedy, you can't go past Shakespeare, man. Nobody does tragedy like Shakespeare." She had never admitted it in high school, hey she was considered weird enough as it was, but she'd really liked Shakespeare's work. His sonnets and plays were always deep and beautiful, potent with meaning and raw emotion.  
Of course, she was immediately plagued by demands to hear about this Shakespeare person, Eowyn insistent on hearing one of his tragedies.  
"Ok, ok, I'll tell you one for today!" Dawn relented. "And since we're already on this impossible romance jones, I guess we'll do Romeo & Juliet while we're at it." She gave them a quick run-down on William Shakespeare and launched into the story of the star-crossed lovers.  
That night, Aragorn lay awake after those not on watch were asleep. He grinned as he looked a few metres to his right. Legolas was asleep in the manner of his people, his eyes wide open and his hands folded over his chest. And curled up against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, was Dawn. One of her arms had been lazily thrown across his body, and he'd gripped the slender fingers in his own.  
Aragorn turned his eyes to the stars, letting himself fall into dreams of Arwen.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Eowyn was trying not to laugh as she led the horse. Gimli was perched precariously on Arod's back, trying to tell her all about Dwarf women to pass the time on the final leg of their draining journey to the Deep.  
"... they are, in fact, often mistaken for Dwarf men," he admitted to her.  
She turned, looking behind her to where Aragorn was riding Hasufel. "It's the beards," he whispered, stroking his stubbled chin, causing Eowyn to actually choke on a burst of laughter that was threatening to escape.  
"And this in turn has given rise to the theory that there are no Dwarf women, and that we simply spring up out of holes in the ground, which is absolutely ridiculous!" the Dwarf concluded.  
Eowyn could contain herself no longer. She burst out with laughter, the vibrant sound ringing across the plains, startling the sombre people walking around them. While she was distracted, Arod pulled his reins from her grip and began to bolt. Gimli, yelling in terror, managed to cling on for a few metres before being thrown to the ground. A soldier ran to retrieve the horse while the Lady ran to the fallen Dwarf.  
She helped him up and dusted him off, giggling as he grumbled "I'm all right, it was deliberate, it was deliberate."  
She looked back to where Aragorn was laughing and her smile froze on her face. His eyes locked onto her, and she felt herself pulled into their grey depths. At length, she shook herself out of it and regained her composure.  
It was then that all hell broke loose. Hama and another guard had ridden a little ways ahead to scout for signs of danger, straying into a gully. Legolas, who had been walking by Lightfoot and Dawn up the front near Theoden, came to the top of the hill above the gully. He strained his eyes far into the horizon. Aragorn had seen Legolas' movement and left Hasufel's reins in Eowyn's hands and began to move to the Elf.  
He saw Legolas shoot at something, lightning fast, and dash into the gully, knife in hand.  
"A scout!" he called back to Aragorn as he stood over the body of the Warg and it's Rider who had ambushed and killed Hama and his horse.  
Aragorn yelled back to Theoden, and they saw a group of savage Wolf- like beasts bearing down on them, being ridden by Orcs.  
The Rohirric people began to panic. Dawn felt a flutter of nerves in her gut as she drew Me'ahyanda. Theoden commanded his niece to lead the people on to Helm's Deep, overriding her when she tried to insist she could fight.  
Gimli had been restored to Arod, and Eowyn had deftly stepped aside, leaving Hasufel's reins for Aragorn to fluidly mount. The Ranger cantered up to the front, shooting a look at Dawn.  
"Not a word, Estel," she said evenly, before he had even opened his mouth.  
"Be careful, Seler'nin," was all he would say before spurring Hasufel on.  
Dawn followed, and she soon found herself surrounded by the King's guards as they closed the gap between them and the Wargs.  
Legolas had not been idle. While waiting for Gimli and Arod to reach him, he'd fired off some of his arrows, bringing down four Wargs, rendering their Orc Riders a little more vulnerable. As his horse cantered past, Legolas grabbed the reins and flipped himself up, mounting in front of Gimli.  
With a sickening thud of flesh, the first lines met. The Wargs were violent creatures, Dawn actually shuddered as she saw one of them latch onto a horses neck, bringing the animal down. Somehow, she made it through the skirmish unscathed, though she suspected that there was an Elven archer watching her back a little more closely than was absolutely necessary for her to survive.  
Some time later, with the last of the attackers being taken care of by the guards, she dismounted Lightfoot and swept her eyes over the battlefield for signs of her friends. Gimli, Theoden, Legolas, she breathed a large sigh of relief as she spotted the Elf doing just the same as her.  
Aragorn? Where was Aragorn? She heard Legolas and Gimli calling his name. She ran over to them. "Estel!" she yelled. Her voice was almost a scream, she was beginning to panic.  
A crude laugh just beyond them snapped all three of their heads to the sound. Gimli threatened the dying Orc to tell them whatever he knew of Aragorn.  
"Took a little tumble over the cliff," the Orc wheezed, nodding to a sheer drop a few metres away. His laughter was interrupted by Legolas grabbing at his shoulders and jerking him roughly back and forth.  
"You lie," the Elf said, hatred for the Orc and fear for Aragorn colouring his tones.  
The Orc died then. Legolas ran his contemptuous gaze over him, stopping when he caught sight of something in its hand. Slowly, carefully, he disentangled the Evenstar pendant from the Orc's clawed grip and held it up for the others to see.  
They turned and ran to the edge, peering over the precipice. Below them, they could see the corpse of a Warg smashed against hard rock by a river. There was no trace of Aragorn.  
They stared down at the river as if bewildered. None of them noticed Theoden approach. He looked down once and closed his eyes, turning away. "Get the wounded on horses. Leave the dead," he commanded in a steady voice.  
Legolas glared at him, anger, confusion and pain radiating from his bright eyes. 'How could Theoden be so callous? Did being mortal mean the loss of a life was no cause with which to trouble yourself too greatly?' he wondered.  
Theoden understood Legolas' feelings, but he had his people to protect. He did not have the luxury of showing how much his own words sickened him. He clasped Legolas' shoulder a moment, saying "Come."  
They followed the King. For the rest of the journey, none of the soldiers spoke. Dawn barely noticed the world passing her by as she sat on Lightfoot's back, silent tears running ceaselessly down her cheeks.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: Obviously, this part is very much movie verse, but as a word of warning and a spoiler, Haldir doesn't die coz, well, I was too lazy to write the Elves into Helm's Deep. Hope you enjoyed, R&R ~Anoron 


	8. Chapter 8: Miles to Go

They reached Helm's Deep. Dawn vaguely heard a random voice yelling "Make way for the King!" as Theoden led them into the fortress.  
  
Eowyn was right there as they all dismounted. Her eyes quickly took in the wearied survivors. "So few. So few of you have returned," she breathed to her uncle.  
  
"Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives," he told her grimly.  
  
Eowyn's gaze was roving again. "Lord Aragorn? Where is he?"  
  
Gimli stood in front of her, his helmet in his hands. He could barely bring himself to look into the Lady's eyes, much less say the words aloud. His voice was cracking over his words when he finally spoke.  
  
"He fell...."  
  
Eowyn looked to Theoden, who silently nodded his head, confirming her fears. She sank down onto a stack of meal sacks just behind her. She looked around her, uncomprehending.  
  
Dawn's tears had dried by the time Legolas helped her to dismount. He held her waist, lowering her gently from Lightfoot. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she turned and buried her face in the Elf's chest, clinging to him for comfort.  
  
Legolas held her tightly, drawing as much strength and comfort from her as she did from him. At length, they mutually separated with a kiss and refocused on the world around them. The place looked like a refugee camp to Dawn.  
  
Theoden was in command again. "Draw all our forces beyond the wall. Bar the gates and set the watch," he told Gamling, the old soldier who'd held chief control of the Deep.  
  
"Take the women and children into the caves," he told Eowyn.  
  
Eowyn complied, but Dawn saw her eyes flashing. She was a warrior, her heart was on the battlefield. Dawn could see it. Legolas and Gimli watched her rounding up frightened citizens, even picking up a stray orphaned child to lead into the relative safety of the caves.  
  
"She thinks to fight herself," Legolas murmured, his sharp eyes catching the steely glint of the sword Eowyn had concealed at her hip.  
  
Gimli nodded. Dawn could see from the eyes of her two friends that they disapproved of the idea of a Lady such as Eowyn engaging in battle. Still in emotional turmoil over the loss of her Estel, she glared at them angrily.  
  
"Why the hell shouldn't she?" she snapped.  
  
Legolas and Gimli stared at her. Dawn did not back down. "She has a right to defend herself and her people, same as you or I or Theoden!"  
  
They continued to stare until finally Dawn relaxed. "I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to wig on you. I'm just so tired and confused and upset-" she broke off and shook her head.  
  
"'Tis all right," Legolas murmured, planting a light kiss on her forehead. "It has been an exacting day for all. Perhaps you should try to rest?" he suggested helpfully.  
  
Dawn shook her head. "Don't think I could," she responded. "Anyway, miles to go before I sleep."  
  
"What?" Gimli asked, confused by her strange phrase.  
  
"Oh, it's just a line from a Robert Frost poem that goes:  
  
'/The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep  
And miles to go before I sleep./'  
  
Miles to go before we sleep is kind of a running theme with the Scooby Gang," she told them.  
  
Legolas and Gimli nodded, understanding her. They all ploughed into helping Theoden in any way possible.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Where is he!?" Gimli growled, pushing through a crowd of people gathering around a dark man on a horse.  
  
Battered and bruised, but very much alive, Aragorn gracelessly dismounted Brego to find himself trapped in the crushing embrace of a Dwarf.  
  
"You are the luckiest, the uncanniest and the most reckless man I ever knew! Bless you, laddie," Gimli exclaimed.  
  
Aragorn disentangled himself from Gimli with some difficulty. "Where is Theoden?" he asked.  
  
Gimli saw the focused look in Aragorn's eyes and gave his answer immediately. Aragorn strode away.  
  
Someone stood directly in his path. Aragorn almost walked into the figure before looking up to see who it was.  
  
"Lle ab-dollen," Legolas told him with a relieved smirk. "You look terrible." /You're late/  
  
He handed the Evenstar pendant back to his friend.  
  
"Hannon lle," Aragorn said, clasping Legolas' shoulder warmly. /Thank you/  
  
Neither of them noticed Eowyn a little ways off to one side, watching them. An extraordinary expression was fleeting across her face. The strangest mixture of joy and heartbreak, as she saw that Aragorn was alive, but she understood the significance of the jewel he'd just reclaimed for his own.  
  
To the other side, Dawn saw Eowyn's face briefly and was sorry for her friend's pain. She forgot it momentarily though, like she forgot everything else in the world as she squealed and crashed into Aragorn's waiting arms.  
  
He didn't even flinch when she knocked the open wound on his arm in her haste. "I knew you'd come, Estel!" she cried.  
  
She pulled back and looked at him. "You look like crap!"  
  
Legolas laughed. "I told you so, my friend."  
  
Aragorn just rolled his eyes at them.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"An army you say?" Theoden was pacing around a private chamber deep in the fortress.  
  
As soon as he'd arrived, Aragorn had gone straight to the King to break the news of what he'd seen on his journey back to his friends. He sat in a chair, smoking a pipe he held with his left hand. Dawn was cleaning and bandaging the ugly wound across his right biceps. Across from them sat Gimli, and Legolas and Eowyn stood just beyond Aragorn and Dawn.  
  
Aragorn's eyes were dull with his worry. "Ten thousand strong," he told them.  
  
Dawn looked up from her work to stare at him as he said this. Ten thousand? She gulped and forced herself to finish bandaging Aragorn's arm as he spoke.  
  
"It is an army bred for a single purpose- to destroy the world of men. They will be here by nightfall."  
  
"Let them come," Theoden snarled.  
  
Aragorn, having been released from Dawn's care, stood and looked around the room, his eyes resting on each of them in turn. He looked at the calm face of Dawn, who in such a short time had become as dear as a younger sister to him. She was worried, he could tell. But she was not afraid. His eyes rested on Gimli and Legolas only briefly- they were both composed and prepared. True warriors. He looked at Theoden, tired and in despair. But still in control. He would lead his people until the end. Almost as an afterthought, Aragorn turned to look at Eowyn. He met her eyes for half a second, then dropped them immediately, more disturbed by the look in the Lady's eyes than anything. Her gaze had been hard and cold, and hungry. Eowyn was thirsting for a battle which she would never be allowed to take part in.  
  
Time was pressing. Theoden began to give out orders for a makeshift armoury, and plan and strategise his meagre forces. He had to resort to calling on every stong lad able to bear arms. Some were no more than children. Dawn was horrified when a boy of no more than twelve years stood to claim a sword, but she quickly schooled her face to remain focused and unemotional. It wouldn't do anyone any good to weaken now. She was so caught up in her work that she didn't notice the two pairs of eyes that followed her every move- grey and blue. Legolas and Aragorn were watching Dawn as they held a furious conversation about her fate. Finally, they seemed to reach an agreement and started towards her.  
  
She felt herself drawn to the side by Aragorn and Legolas. They led her into a secluded corner, shielded by the overhang of stone stairs.  
  
When they were alone, she turned her trusting gaze towards them. "What's up guys?"  
  
Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other, then at her. "Do you plan to fight in this battle, Dawn?" Legolas asked.  
  
"Of course I do!" she replied, confused. "Do you?"  
  
The puzzled look in both the Elf's and the Man's eyes told her they had never even considered the possibility that thay wouldn't fight, it wasn't a possibility to them. They ignored her question.  
  
"The odds are against us," Aragorn told her. "Though hope yet remains, it is possible, likely even that Helm's Deep will fall, and all Rohan will be massacred."  
  
"Uh-huh," Dawn said slowly. "Hence the battling. Look, guys, I know you're worried about me. But if what you're saying is true, I'd be no safer in the caves than I would on the wall. Besides, I don't do hiding. I was sent here to fight, so I'm gonna kick some ass."  
  
"You could die," Legolas said softly, his anxiety for Dawn's welfare colouring his tones.  
  
"If I'm goin' to hell, I'm taking as many of those things with me," she said matter-of-factly, before softening her voice. "So could you," she said, returning Legolas' last remark with the same tone.  
  
The three of them exchanged dire grins. Dawn moved to go back to her work, but they stopped her. "Wait, Dawn," Legolas held her arm.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
A long silence ensued.  
  
"Uh, hello? Clock's ticking, guys."  
  
Legolas finally smiled at her, a strange expression clouding his blue eyes. "I have something for you- it will help you through the battle."  
  
"Oooh- a present!" Dawn squealed with childish delight. "What is it?"  
  
Legolas produced a small vial of liquid and pressed it into her hand. "Drink this now. It will set to work within the hour and should last the night, if our luck will hold."  
  
"Y'know, my mom always said I wasn't allowed to accept strange drinks. Could be anything in it," she told them with mock seriousness. "What's it do?"  
  
Legolas gave her an odd smile. "It will protect you, Dawn."  
  
"Neato," she said, presuming it was a Middle-Earth version of a protection spell. "Thanks."  
  
They watched as she downed the contents of the vial, handing it back to Legolas before she threw herself back into the task at hand. Legolas and Aragorn stayed close enough to keep an eye on her.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Dawn felt herself beginning to tire. She tried to shake herself out of it, mumbling, "Miles to go before I sleep." She continued in her task, not considering for a second that her declining strength could at all be related to the potion Legolas and Aragorn had given her. Legolas was her lover and Aragorn was the closest thing she had to a brother, closer than Xander had ever been to fraternal with her, even. They had said it would help her and she wholeheartedly trusted them.  
  
The Elf and the Man exchanged another glance.  
  
Forty five minutes after drinking the potion, Dawn was practically out on her feet. She stood, swaying on shaky legs and blinking to try and clear her blurry vision. Two familiar faces swam into her murky view. A hand came up over her eyes.  
  
"Lanta kaima," she heard Legolas' voice whisper.  
  
As Dawn collapsed, Aragorn caught her. With Legolas in tow, he carried her into the caves.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Eowyn paced angrily about the entry to the caves. She had reasoned with her uncle to let her fight. She had argued with her uncle to let her fight. She had even pleaded with her uncle to let her fight. But here she was, stuck in the caves with the helpless people. A prize to be claimed by the victors of the battle.  
  
There was nothing to do but wait, and Eowyn knew this would be the longest night of her short life. Perhaps the last, but she did not care about that. She feared neither death nor pain, they would be a welcome release from the guilded cage she lived within. The entry to the caves, the door of the last chamber in the Deep, would be blocked soon. She would be trapped. Again.  
  
The door banged open, and in came Aragorn and Legolas. In Aragorn's arms was the unconscious form of Dawn. Eowyn rushed to them.  
  
"What happened?" she asked, concerned.  
  
There was no other space left, so Aragorn laid Dawn on the table as Legolas turned to Eowyn. "She is not unwell, just asleep. She may not wake for hours, though," he said evenly.  
  
Eowyn narrowed her eyes at them. What did he mean? What had they done?  
  
Suddenly she understood and gasped. "You gave her a draught!"  
  
"A sleeping draught, yes milady. A strong one," Aragorn told her.  
  
Eowyn was speechless with rage on Dawn's behalf. She stared at them, openmouthed, fury radiating from her eyes and staining her pale cheeks with crimson. They shifted uncomfortably under her stare.  
  
"We must return to the wall," Aragorn said stiffly. They left.  
  
Eowyn turned to Dawn and smoothed the hair out of her friend's face. Her one comfort had been to know that while she was trapped, Dawn had promised to "kick some serious Uruk-Hai ass" on Eowyn's behalf. Now Dawn had been betrayed by her own, she was just as trapped and helpless as Eowyn.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: 'lanta kaima' is an elvish spell for sleep, or so the Grey Company says. R&R ~Anoron 


	9. Chapter 9: Betrayal and A Bigger Battle

Legolas and Aragorn returned to the wall and took their places beside Gimli. Saruman's army was quickly approaching and it had begun to rain.  
  
"Is it done?" the Dwarf asked.  
  
Legolas nodded. "She is safe for now. We have done our best by her, and I only hope she will forgive us for the pain we've caused to her pride."  
  
"If we ever see her again," Gimli scoffed before turning to Aragorn. "By the luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."  
  
"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas reminded him.  
  
"Let's hope they last the night," Gimli countered. A faint smile passed between the three.  
  
Aragorn ducked off for a last minute conference with Theoden. The attack was only minutes away. At the wall, Gimli was jumping up and down on the spot, trying to see over the high stretch of wall he found himself stuck behind.  
  
"Ugh- you could've picked a better spot," he grumbled to Legolas.  
  
The Elf smirked.  
  
"What's happening out there!?"  
  
"Shall I describe it to you, or would you like me to find you a box?" Legolas returned amiably to the Dwarf beside him.  
  
Gimli shot him a glance and laughed good naturedly. They were both now relaxed and prepared for the battle which was upon them.  
  
Ten thousand Uruk-Hai warriors stood just metres from the wall. At Aragorn's command, all archers had fitted arrows into their bows. The strings were taut, aim was taken. Only one word from Aragorn remained between them and the first strike of the battle.  
  
Gamling's wrist shook. He tried to steady himself, but he lost his grip. With a loud whoosh, his arrow was loosed and flying through the air.  
  
"Dartho!" cried Aragorn. /Hold!/  
Gamling's arrow had buried itself deep into the neck of a Uruk-Hai in the front line. Both sides watched, holding their breath as one while the creature fell face first to the mud, seemingly in slow motion.  
  
After a pregnant pause, the Uruk-Hai began to roar, shaking their swords at the defenders of the fortress.  
  
Aragorn's voice somehow rose above the din. "A Eruchin U-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha llie faelas! Tangado halad..." /Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none! Prepare to fire.../  
  
Whislt waiting for the cammand to fire, Legolas spoke up. "Faeg i- vaar din na lanc a nu ranc," he tipped. /Their armour is weak at the neck and below the arm/  
  
"Leithio i philinn!" Aragorn cried and a wave of arrows rained down on the Uruk-Hai. /Hurl the arrows!/  
  
The battle began in earnest. At the commands of Theoden and Aragorn, the Rohirrim loosed their arrows, taking down great quantites of the enemy. But more were there to take the places of the fallen. The Uruk-Hai mounted their own attack, pushing great ladders already bearing warriors up to the wall.  
  
"Pendraid!" Aragorn yelled in warning. /Ladders!/  
  
"Good," Gimli growled. He hated having Orc necks so close and not having the chance to swing his axe at them. Axe in hand, he settled himself into a good stance for swinging.  
  
A ladder hit just by him, and he swung twice. In a lull of battle, he looked towards Legolas, who was just finishing off an enemy with one of his knives. "Two already," he boasted.  
  
"I'm on seventeen!" Legolas returned. He fired two more arrows. "Nineteen," he amended.  
  
"I'll have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" Gimli raged.  
  
For about an hour the battle raged on in the same pattern. The Uruk- Hai would mount ladders against the wall, and the defenders would try to push them away. But more often than not they failed, and the foul creatures breached the wall, forcing them to cut them down with their swords. And above the sounds of swords clashing, and the occasional gut- wrenching scream of a man being slain, the boisterous voice of Gimli could be heard as he raced against his Elven friend. "... seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty..." he counted aloud with each swing of his axe that found its mark.  
  
The clear ringing of an Elf's voice returned with "My count is now two dozen!"  
  
Dread was beginning to build in the pit of Aragorn's stomach. At this rate the Uruk-Hai would overwhelm them by sheer numbers within the next few hours. But something whispered in his mind that this would be the least of their worries. The Uruk-Hai would want to go for the crushing blow, the quick and devastating victory. He took no comfort from the pattern the attack had settled into, he felt in his bones that the enemy would make a more prominent move very soon.  
  
Suddenly, a flash of lightning drew his attention to the causeway. While they had been distracted with the defence of the wall, a group of the Uruks had snuck up towards the gate, brandishing a battering ram. "Na fennas!" /Causeway!/ Aragorn cried, directing some nearby archers to turn their arrows to the causeway. They took down those on the closer outside of the bunch driving the ram forward, but there were too many to stop its progress.  
  
"Brace the gate!" Theoden called. The closest men threw themselves against the thick wood, but were jolted back with the impact of the ram. They braced again, and Theoden himself joined them.  
  
Thick Orc spears began to splinter through the wood. It would not be long beofre the doors were broken beyond repair. As Aragorn and Gimli came to their aid, a long spear broke through the shards of the door, stabbing into Theoden's arm He pulled back, grasping at his wound.  
  
They had to repair the doors, and quickly. Aragorn grabbed his shoulder. A wordless communication passed between the two for a moment. "How long do you need?" he asked aloud.  
  
"As long as you can give me," Theoden replied, already setting his men to work.  
  
"Gimli," Aragorn called the Dwarf to him. Together, they slipped unnoticed out a side door. Hugging to the wall, they peered across a gap to the numerous Uruks who were still trying to break the doors down.  
  
"Oh, come on, we can take them!" Gimli quietly jested.  
  
Aragorn gave him a serious look. "It's a long way."  
  
Gimli peeked around Aragorn to see the distance they'd have to jump to reach the causeway. He pulled his head back almost immediately. "Oh. Toss me," he grumbled.  
  
"What?" Aragorn could hardly believe his ears.  
  
"I cannot jump the distance, you'll have to toss me!" he said, flustered.  
  
Wordlessly, Aragorn grabbed his arm to launch him over the way. Gimli hesitated. "Uh- don't tell the Elf."  
  
"Not a word," the Ranger swore before launching Gimli.  
  
Gimli landed in a ring of Uruks, knocking several over as he crashed into them, taking out just as many with wide swings of his axe. Aragorn was barely a second behind, brandishing Anduril. Between the two of them, they kept the Uruks away from the door long enough for Theoden and the Rohirrim to repair it and brace it with long wooden planks against the onslaught.  
  
As the last plank was placed over the door, obstructing his view, Theoden had run up to the wall. He saw the work on the door was done and turned his attention back to the causeway. Gimli and Aragorn were holding their own for now, but they were rapidly losing ground.  
  
"Aragorn! Gimli! Get out of there!" he yelled to them.  
  
They looked around, but there was no possibe way of escape. The Uruks were closing in.  
  
Legolas leapt up onto the rim of the wall. He called out to them and tossed a thick rope their way, before jumping down to brace his weight against the rope. Aragorn caught the rope and grabbed Gimli. Moments before they could be crushed beneath a wave of Uruks, Theoden appeared behind Legolas, grabbing the rope to help the Elf haul his friends to the relative safety of the fortress.  
  
Without hesiatation they launched back into battle, ignoring their fatigue. They had been battling for quite a few hours now, and though they tired and their numbers were visibly depleted, they soldiered on. Whilst hope remained, there was no choice.  
  
A spark below caught their attention. A Uruk-Hai was running for the drain built into the wall just beneath their feet, a sizzling torch of some description in his hands. Aragorn's eyes widened as he realised what the torch must be. He looked around wildly. Legolas was only a little ways off.  
  
He pointed to the Uruk. "Togo hon dad, Legolas. Dago hon! Dago hon!" /Bring him down, Legolas. Kill him! Kill him!/  
  
Legolas fired at the weaknesses in the Orc's armour, hitting him, but his efforts were in vain. The creature struggled on through its injury, and with the last of its strength, it lunged and threw the torch into the drain.  
  
Seconds later, the wall exploded from under them. Shards of rock, weapons, men and Uruks flew into the air, splattering over the battlefield.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn had been stirring slightly for some time, floating on the edge of consciousness. Eowyn paced back and forth, waiting for her friend to awaken. Waiting for something, anything to happen.  
  
A loud boom echoed all around them. Some of the children began to cry. Dawn yelped and sat up, jerked awake by the noise.  
  
She looked around her, taking a moment to remember what was going on, where she was supposed to be. "What the hell?" she blurted out. Last thing she remembered was talking with Legolas and Aragorn before the battle. They'd given her something to drink, and an hour later she'd passed out.  
  
Eowyn came rushing back to her side. "Dawn! You are awake!" she sounded surprised.  
  
"Yeah, I'm awake. What the crap is going on, Eowyn?" she asked irritably.  
  
"I don't know," was the reply. "The battle has been going on for some hours now, and I've no way of knowing how our forces... and our families are faring."  
  
"Battle? Hours? How?" Dawn sputtered, confused.  
  
Eowyn was still surprised to see Dawn awake so soon. "It is a marvel you have awakened so quickly, Dawn. They said it was likely you would pass the entire night in slumber."  
  
Realisation flooded over Dawn's face as she began to understand her last memories before losing consciousness, and Eowyn's words. "Drugs," she said quietly to herself. "They gave me drugs, knocked me out."  
  
Eowyn nodded, her anger on her friend's behalf returning with a vengeance.  
  
"Assholes," Dawn muttered in a hard voice. But her eyes betrayed her pain.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Aragorn had been thrown by the force of the blast, landing on the ground just behind the wall. There was no cover and no chance of escape. A wave of Uruk-Hai poured through the gaping hole blown in the wall. Still on the ground, Aragorn stared up at what he thought would be his death.  
  
With an enraged shout, Gimli lept from the broken wall. He crashed down into the drain water, taking several of the advancing Uruk-Hai with him. Aragorn scrambled to his feet. Gimli had just saved his life, but now the Dwarf was in trouble himself.  
  
Aragorn rallied the troops around him and with a cry of "Herio!" they sprang into action. /Charge!/  
  
With the battle raging around him, Gimli pulled himself up and joined in. Above them, Legolas was watching their progress keenly. He spied an opportunity and did not hesitate. He stabbed a Uruk to death and pulled his shield from his hands. He then slid the shield along the ground, jumping on it as it skidded down the stairs. By the time he'd reached the bottom, he'd fired off three arrows and kicked the shield, burying it deep in the chest of a passing Uruk.  
  
Things were not going well. They could all sense it, another hour of combat like this, especially now that the wall had been breached, and they would lose. Theoden looked around at the carnage. The open areas of the fortress were littlered with human and orc corpses, the stones stained with black and red blood. He shook his head.  
  
"To the Keep! Fall back to the Keep!" he cried, unwilling to lose any more of his soldiers.  
  
Aragorn heard the cry and echoed it. With some difficulty, the last of the Rohirrim were rounded up and seeking the refuge of one of the outer chambers of the fortress. They scrambled back and forth, using any possible object in the room to barricade the door.  
  
The Uruk-Hai were already pounding on the other side. No barriers would hold them out for long. They were trapped. The King stood dazed in the centre of the room, watching as men scurried hopelessly around him.  
  
Aragorn was speaking to him, but he did not respond. "Is there no other way for the women and children to escape?" he had been asking.  
  
A few moments passed without reply. Aragorn shook Theoden from his thoughts. "Is there no other way!?" he repeated desparately.  
  
Ignoring the defeatist answer that finally came, he turned to a nearby soldier. A fifteen year old boy. When the frightened child stammered something about a secret path leading out of the caves from behind, Aragorn immediately sent him on an errand.  
  
"Find the Lady Eowyn, tell her Aragorn says to wake Dawn if she has not yet risen, use cold water if she must. The two of them are to lead the women and children up the mountain paths to the safety of Dunharrow. They must not be discovered by the enemy! Warn them of that. Go, boy!"  
  
The boy scurried off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"My Lady Eowyn!" a voice cried. A small figure in an oversized helmet ran through the crowds of women and children, sword in hand.  
  
Eowyn looked up from where she had been sitting with Dawn. She stood and called him over. He related the message hastily.  
  
"They shall fall," Eowyn murmured to herself. One look in the boy's eyes told her all the horrors of the battle. Horrors she would've willingly experienced first hand. She nodded slowly, coming to a decision.  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Haleth, son of Hama, my Lady," he stammered.  
  
"Well, Haleth. I entrust you with this task. You shall secret the people away to Dunharrow. Can you do this task? Take them there, and some of the old men here shall have the wisdom to see to things until our arrival. The Lady Dawn and I have business to attend to here yet."  
  
Dawn's eyes flashed fiery green in contrast to Eowyn's icy blue. It looked as if they would get their battle after all. Haleth set to work immediately. Within minutes, the caves and it's opening chamber were emptied of all but two slender figures. A hasty barrier had been thrown up in an attempt to conceal the passage between the chamber and the caves. It would not slow the Uruk-Hai down for more than a second, any more than Eowyn and Dawn would, if they got in. But that one second could be vital for the fleeing people of Rohan.  
  
Eowyn and Dawn stood side by side in the centre of the room. Their swords were drawn, their faces were a mask of deadly clam. They waited.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Ride out with me!" Aragorn implored the King.  
  
Theoden looked around at his broken army. A new day was dawning, light slowly seeping in to wash over the chamber. Aragorn remembered Gandalf's words before he had left in search of Eomer.  
  
"Look to my coming at the dawning of the fifth day," he'd said. Aragorn felt hope filling his heart as the sky lightened.  
  
Theoden nodded, passion and pride sitrring within him. "The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound one last time in the Deep!"  
  
Gimli gave a roar of approval. Whilst the others were mounting the horses that had been hastily fetched, he ran up to the ancient horn. As light burst over them, Gimli took a deep breath and blew on the horn with all his Dwarvish might. It echoed, and Eowyn's eyes brightened a little as she stood at the ready with Dawn.  
  
The doors flew open, and Theoden led the charge of the Erolingas against the Uruk-Hai. Legolas and Aragorn came just behind him, slashing their way through the seemingly endless sea of bodies. The cavalry advanced to the gates and charged down the causeway.  
  
At the top of the hill opposite the Deep, a lone figure sat atop his horse and watched the King leading the charge.  
  
"Theoden King stands alone," he commented.  
  
"Not alone," corrected the young Marshal who had ridden up beside Gandalf.  
  
"Rohirrim!" At Eomer's call, a hundred soldiers rode up behind him into the view of the fortress.  
  
"Eomer," Theoden breathed, hope filling his heart.  
  
"The White Rider!" Aragorn cried.  
  
Gandalf and Eomer led the the Rohirrim into the fray. The Wizard's staff shone with an unearthly light which blinded their enemies. The defenders attacked with renewed vigour.  
  
Soon, the victory cry went up from Theoden and was echoed across the battlefield by his nephew.  
  
At length, the pair met with Aragorn, Legolas and Gandalf. They left the carnage of the field for now, it would be better to begin cleaning the war-torn land after rest, and went back into the fortress where they were met by Gimli.  
  
They went straight to the chamber leading to the caves. The door was still barricaded, so they set to work bringing it down.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: I know, I know- very much movieverse coz I was too lazy to go through the book & plan out the battle properly. And look out for the Fellowship once Dawn gets a hold of them- she may be older, but she still doesn't forgive quite so easily! (Hey, it was all going just *too* well between her & Legolas, wasn't it? I think I may be evil for doing this to them ;-) R&R ~Anoron. BTW- thanks again to all my reviewers, particularly Abbey & houses, you've kept me posting. ~Anoron. 


	10. Chapter 10: Violations of Mind and Body

The two women listened to the pounding on the door. Each *BOOM* was louder than the last, but neither flinched. Dawn smiled grimly to herself: this was the vision she'd had in Galadriel's mirror, finally coming to pass. She felt as calm as she had in the vision, and sensed the same from Eowyn. The sounds of an axe splintering the wood came to them.  
  
Minutes later, the door crashed open. In poured Theoden, Eomer, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. They stared at the two women standing alone and battle ready, dumbfounded.  
  
After a stunned pause, Eowyn dropped the sword on the table and ran to embrace her family.  
  
Dawn stood rooted to the spot, completely overcome by the flood of emotions that had engulfed her at the sight of her friends. Her first instinct was to be too relieved for words that they were safe. She even found her eyes raking over Legolas extra carefully to ensure he was truly all right. Half a second later she remembered what they'd done to her.  
  
Legolas almost flinched as he watched the pain, then the fury flood into Dawn's eyes. She looked as if she could reach over and snap their necks with her bare hands, by the mood she was in. He tentatively took a step forward.  
  
"Dawn..." he began softly.  
  
"Go to hell," she snapped. She stalked past them, forcefully elbowing her way through Aragorn and Legolas when they stood between her and the door. She strode out the door without a backward glance.  
  
With a look at the others, Legolas followed her. He found Dawn sitting on an unbroken stretch of wall, staring out the slaughter before her. Below them, and around them, healthy soldiers were tending to the wounded. Dawn ignored them all.  
  
"Dawn?" a familiar voice broke into her thoughts. Legolas sat beside her. She unconsciously shifted away from him a little, and turned her attention back to the field.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
She shot him a withering look. That had to be the single stupidest thing she'd ever heard him say.  
  
Legolas looked down at his hands, bloodstained and dirty still. He did not know what to say, how to explain to her that they'd done what was best for her. He and Aragorn and Gimli had decided that, with the odds stacked against them as they were, they could not bear the thought of Dawn getting herself killed. They'd vowed to do what it took to keep her out of the line of fire. But Dawn couldn't see past their actions to begin to understand their reasons.  
  
Dawn started to cry. Silent tears dripped unchecked down her cheeks for a few moments before Legolas noticed them. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her mind was thrown back into Sunnydale. She could see Tara's hurt when she'd discovered Willow had been using mind control on her. How violated Tara had been, how used and disgusting she'd felt. Like the one person she loved and trusted more than anything else in the world had raped her of her mind. Though Willow and Tara had eventually worked through their problems, the memory never left them, and when Glory brainsucked Tara, it made it all the more awful. Dawn was sorry to say she now knew exactly how Tara felt.  
  
Legolas noticed the tears. "Hey," he said gently, bringing a hand up to brush them away.  
  
Before he could lay a hand on her, Dawn glowered at him. "Don't you dare touch me." Her voice was low, but so full of malice that Legolas immediately pulled his hand away. His eyes widened at her.  
  
She shook her head, tears still flowing, and spoke again.  
  
"I trusted you and you took my body, and you used it, used me, to do whatever you wanted, you violated me, raped me of my own free will and the whole time you stood there with a smile on your face and told me it was good for me! And that-" Dawn's voice broke over the word.  
  
"That is more disgusting, more painful and more degrading than anything I've ever know in my entire life. And I've been through a helluva lot before I came here. How could you, Legolas? After what Glory did to me?"  
  
Legolas blanched, remembering then that she had been drugged in her old world so she could not fight her captors.  
  
Legolas sighed. "We did what we thought was best for you, Dawn. We thought you would understand and push these feelings of yours aside."  
  
Dawn stared at him, incredulous. What was best for her? None of this was best for her! This entire world hadn't been best for her since she got here! But it didn't matter. She fought on anyway, and she'd done ok so far. She thought she'd earned their respect, thought they knew her. They didn't know her at all, she realised. If they thought they could cause her the worst pain she'd ever felt in her entire life and she would just 'push the feelings aside' because they meant well, they sure as hell didn't know her!  
  
In a rage, Dawn slapped Legolas. The force of the unexpected blow caused his head to whip around, sending dirty blond hair flying about him in waves. She stood up and walked away. He stared after her, a hand on his already red cheek, which was stinging more than he cared to let on.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn wandered around, looking at nothing in particular. She was just enjoying the solitude for the moment, all the others were busy either cleaning up, or preparing to ride to Isengard that night. She wondered if she would be allowed to go, or if she'd be left behind again.  
  
She vowed to herself that even if she had to follow them the whole way alone, she'd be a part of this. It was, after all, why she was sent here. To help. She felt a stray tear slide down her cheek. Another tear? She brushed it away in annoyance. She didn't have time for tears, and she needed to get over herself, she knew.  
  
She cringed, remembering how she'd lost it and slapped Legolas. She hadn't meant to, and she absently wondered if he was very angry with her. 'Wait,' she told herself. 'You're angry with him!'  
  
She shrugged to herself and didn't give it a second thought. A hand rested on her shoulder and Dawn whirled around.  
  
"Eomer!" she cried when she registered who had touched her. To his surprise, she gave him a quick, exuberent squeeze.  
  
The Marshal was standing before her, a concerned expression in his dark eyes. "Dawn. Are you all right?"  
  
Dawn nodded vigorously. "Yeah- five by five. Are you? I'm so glad you made it through the battle unhurt! I was starting to think I'd never see you again," she babbled happily, relieved to see a friendly face whom she wasn't furious with.  
  
Eomer smiled at her. "Yes, I am well. Are you sure you are? 'Tis not good for one to be alone in these dangerous times," he said, looking about him as if he expected another attack to come out of nowhere.  
  
Dawn was surprised to find she was not angry with Eomer. She realised he wasn't alluding to the fact that she was a woman, just that she was a person and he worried for her. She gave him one of her brightest smiles. "I'm not alone- I'm with you. No safer place to be," she said lightly.  
  
He blushed a little at her compliment. He held an arm out to her. "Shall we return? It is mere hours before the ride to Isengard, and much is to be done."  
  
Dawn accepted the offered arm a little awkwardly, she wasn't used to walking about on a guy's arm, and they turned back towards the gates of Helm's Deep. "So, Eomer... This ride to Isengard thingy? What does a warrior have to do to score herself an invite to the party?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Dawn, you must stay behind with Eowyn while we ride to Isengard," Aragorn said.  
  
"No."  
  
"What?" Aragorn was genuinely thrown by Dawn's flat refusal of his orders. Gimli looked annoyed at her stubbornness. Legolas' look was filled with dread. He had been expecting her to insit on remaining with the last of the Fellowship.  
  
His hand unconsciously went to his cheek, where she'd slapped him soundly an hour earlier. He knew how hurt she was that they'd deliberately excluded her from the battle for Helm's Deep. Hurt, and angry.  
  
Dawn was speaking again, her green eyes almost venomous with her rage, boring into the cool grey of Aragorn's gaze.  
  
"I'm going with you. There is no way in hell you're gonna leave me behind like some weak pathetic child while you all play the strapping big heroes off to save the day!"  
  
Aragorn tried to remain patient. "It is not safe," he was speaking to her in a slow, patronising tone, as if she were indeed a mere child to him.  
  
Dawn tried desperately to cling to her last remaining shred of self control. She knew from experience that if she threw a tantrum now, it would only prove Aragorn right, suggesting she could not handle herself. She took a deep breath and forced her voice to remain even. "It has never been safe, Aragorn. I have never known safe. I'd like to, but there is nowhere that is safe until this war is over. And the one thing I refuse to know is fear. I will not hide, I will fight. Forever, if I have to. Besides, Eomer already said I could," she told him with a 'so there!' look. She fought the urge to stick out her tongue at him.  
  
Aragorn sighed and finally nodded his head. Dawn, not even close to forgiving them for their betrayal, turned on her heel and stalked away to prepare for the journey. Behind her she heard Aragorn muttering "I hope Theoden and Eomer have more luck convincing Eowyn to stay."  
  
Dawn smiled to herself as she heard Gimli's deep, rough chuckle at Aragorn's remark. She really liked Eowyn, the first woman she had come across since taking her leave from Galadriel. She understood why she'd had the vision of her new friend in Galadriel's mirror. Dawn knew the woman was very much like herself, and very much like Buffy. She was strong and capable as Buffy, but also as aloof as the Slayer had become over the past few years. But Eowyn was very much in the same situation as Dawn, constantly in the shadow of an older sibling who exuded power, trying desperately to break free but being ever pushed down because she wasn't allowed to be who she was.  
  
It was time to go. Dawn mounted Lightfoot and rode out with the party, much to the chagrin of many of the soldiers. Eowyn, of course, had been left behind. Dawn had hugged her tightly and said she hoped to see her again soon. It was Eowyn's duty to ride to Dunharrow and take charge of the people until the men returned.  
  
Dawn shook her head. It was pretty obvious that the feminist movement hadn't reached Middle-Earth yet.  
  
* * * * *  
  
This is Isengard? Dawn thought to herself as they reached the outer doors. What a dump. She had been riding near the front of the party, since Eomer was the only person she both knew and was on speaking terms with. And most of the Rohirrim stayed well away from her, they didn't think she should be riding.  
  
A silence settled over them as they surveyed the scene. They turned their eyes towards the archway and the ruined gates. There they saw close beside them a great rubble-heap; and suddenly they were aware of two small figures lying on it at their ease, grey-clad, hardly to be seen among the stones. There were bottles and bowls and platters laid beside them, as if they had just eaten well, and now rested from the ir labour. One seemed asleep; the other, with crossed legs and arms behind his head, leaned back against a broken rock and sent from his mouth long wisps and little rings of thin blue smoke.  
  
For a moment Theoden and Eomer and all his men stared at them in wonder. Amid all the wreck of Isengard this seemed to them the strangest sight. But before the king could speak, the small smoke-breathing figure became suddenly aware of them, as they sat there silent on the edge of the mist. He sprang to his feet. A young man he looked, or like one, though not much more than half a man in height; his head of brown curling hair was uncovered, but he was clad in a travel-stained cloak of the same hue and shape as the companions of Gandalf had worn when they rode to Edoras. He bowed very low, putting his hand upon his breast. Then, seeming not to observe the wizard and his friends, he turned to Eomer and the king.  
  
"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" he said. "We are the doorwardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my companion, who, alas! is overcome with weariness"- here he gave the other a dig with his foot- "is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took. Far in the North is our home. The Lord Saruman is within; but at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or doubtless he would be here to welcome such honourable guests."  
  
"Doubtless he would!" laughed Gandalf. "And was it Saruman that ordered you to guard his damaged doors, and watch for the arrival of guests, when your attention could be spared from plate and bottle?"  
  
"No, good sir, the matter escaped him," answered Merry gravely. "He has been much occupied. Our orders come from Treebeard, who has taken over the management of Isengard. He commanded me to welcome the Lord of Rohan with fitting words. I have done my best."  
  
"And what about your companions? What about Legolas and Dawn and me?" cried Gimli, unable to contain himself longer. "You rascals, you woolly-footed and wool-pated truants! A fine hunt you have led us! Two hundred leagues, through fen and forest, battle and death, to rescue you! And here we find you feasting and idling- and smoking! Smoking! Where did you come by the weed, you villains? Hammer and tongs! I am so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst, it will be a marvel!"  
  
Merry did not respond. He was not able to. The second Gimli had exploded, Dawn had been off her horse, thrusting the reins into a stunned Eomer's hands. She flew over and wrapped Merry up in a bear hug, kissing him enthusiastically.  
  
Over Dawn's shoulder, they heard Legolas laugh. "You speak for me, Gimli. Though I would sooner learn how they came by the wine."  
  
"One thing you have not found in your hunting, and that's brighter wits," said Pippin, opening an eye. "Here you find us sitting on a field of victory, amid the plunder of armies, and you wonder how we came by a few well-earned comforts!"  
  
Pippin scrambled to his feet to take his turn at being hugged and kissed by Dawn. He was busy giving Legolas a big wink when Gimli broke in again.  
  
"Well-earned? I cannot believe that!"  
  
The Riders laughed.  
  
Merry chatted idly with Theoden about the history and legends of Hobbits, until at last Gandalf broke into Merry's tirade about the origin of smoking in the Shire. "It is past noon, and we at any rate have not eaten since early morning. Yet I wish to see Treebeard as soon as may be. Did he leave me no message, or has plate and bottle driven it from your mind?"  
  
"He left a message, and I was coming to it, but I have been hindered by many other questions," replied Merry. "I was to say that, if the Lord of the Mark and Gandalf will ride to the northern wall they will find Treebeard there, and he will welcome them. I may add that they will also find food of the best there, it was discovered and selected by your humble servants." He bowed.  
  
Gandalf laughed. "That is better! Well, Theoden, will you ride with me to find Treebeard?"  
  
"I will come with you," Theoden answered.  
  
"I wanna stay here!" a petulant voice piped up.  
  
Gandalf turned and smiled down at Dawn where she stood beside Pippin. "Yes, you may stay. I would be loath to spoil such a happy reunion so quickly! I imagine Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas should like to remain as well."  
  
At the prospect of having them all so close, and with no escape, Dawn blanched visibly. She recovered and nodded weakly, forcing a smile.  
  
The others left and she turned to the Hobbits again. "You guys are ok, right?" she asked, concern colouring her tones.  
  
"Yes, Dawn. We had a rough time, but we are better now," Merry anwered.  
  
Pippin looked up and around at everyone. "Is anyone else hungry?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
They were led into a relatively undamaged guard house. Dawn slipped over a patch of loose stones. Before she could fall, Legolas caught her arm. The Hobbits watched in confusion and worry as Dawn stiffened at the touch, firmly pulling herself away. Pippin opened his mouth to ask, but one look from Aragorn silenced him.  
  
The travellers sat at a long table and were served by Merry and Pippin, who, unabashed, set to a second time. They argued that they had to keep their guests company.  
  
"You are full of courtesy this morning," commented Legolas. "But maybe, if we had not arrived, you would already have been keeping one another company again."  
  
"Maybe; and why not?" returned Pippin. With that, they ate quickly and settled into catching up on each other's stories.  
  
The Hobbits told how they'd drawn the Uruk-Hai away so that Frodo could escape, but then they could not escape themselves. Just as all seemed hopeless, Boromir had come crashing through the trees to aid them. He'd fought hard, but there were too many, and when the thrid arrow had been lodged into the Gondorian's body, they'd been captured and dragged off.  
  
Dawn listened sympathetically as Merry and Pippin spoke of the next few days, being carried by monstrous Uruks, or cruelly forced to run at the ludicrous pace they'd set. They all nodded in understanding when Merry boasted how brave Pippin had been in creating tracks for the hunters, dropping his elven brooch.  
  
"It needed to be done, and I had freed my hands and was able," Pippin said modestly. "I was sorry to lose it, though."  
  
Aragorn smiled warmly at the young Hobbit. "It was the right thing to do," he said. He fished in one of his many pockets, and a moment later he pulled something out and pressed into Pippin's hand.  
  
"My brooch!" he exclaimed happily. "Thank you, Strider."  
  
Merry continued with the story, how when the Rohirrim had attacked, Grishknah had tried to take them, but they'd escaped into Fangorn. They'd eventually met up with Gandalf, and Treebeard had promised to keep them safe.  
  
Next they told all about the attack on Isengard. None of the big people could begin to fathom the battle the Ents had waged on Saruman's home, but they had only to look about them to see the results.  
  
Dawn whistled. "Damn, I've seen some pretty funky fights in my time, but I really wish I hadda been able to see a bunch a trees take out a place!"  
  
"It was pretty amazing," Merry agreed. "And the noise of it as the water came crashing down! 'Twas something we'll not forget, to be sure."  
  
Pippin was nodding happily with his friend. "Yes, but now to you. What have you been up to since we last met?" he asked, as if he was merely catching up with old friends.  
  
They laughed at his casual demeanour and Aragorn jumped into telling them of how they'd discovered Boromir, the ensuing hunt which lead them to Rohan and Eomer. Aragorn spoke of Edoras, of the evils which had befallen the country and how Gandalf had expelled Saruman's influence from Theoden.  
  
The tale moved on to Helm's Deep, and Gimli and Legolas often threw in a line or two about things Aragorn had missed, or their own perspectives. Dawn, however, was silent. She sat aloof, staring sullenly at the fireplace in one of her world class pouts.  
  
She was the first to spring out of her chair and practically bolt from the room when they heard the others returning.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: Wow- complete 180 from movieverse to book- what can I say, I'm a gemini! Hope you're still interested, sorry if Dawn came of a bit melodramatic at the start of this chapter, but hey, she is still Dawn! R&R ~Anoron. 


	11. Chapter 11: Aerosmith, Buttmonkeys and T...

They rode to the doors of Orthanc, Gandalf wanted to speak with Saruman. The Fellowship, though bidden to stay behind, had all insisted on coming too. Dawn didn't really care about Saruman, he was just some old guy stuck in his ugly-ass tower as far as she was concerned, she was just sick of being told she had to stay behind.  
  
She listened half-heartedly as Saruman's charmed voice tried to weasel Theoden into his power once more, but Theoden's will was stronger now and Gandalf shattered the spell.  
  
Saruman became angry at this. His eyes scanned the small crowd before him, searching for another avenue through which he could attack. His mind momentarily bent towards the young Hobbits, he called them nothing but rag-tag, but secretly he was overcome with curiosity about them. Did they have the ring? Had his Uruk-Hai captured them before? What did they know?  
  
Then his mind was pulled to Dawn almost by some unseen force. Power- he felt it in her. She was powerful, incomprehensible even. He smiled down at her. She could be useful to him. Saruman could see the emotional pain practically radiating from her in waves. His smile deepened. She was young and deeply hurt right now- she should be easy to sway into his power.  
  
Dawn noticed the attention she was receiving and glared back coolly. So this Saruman guy was giving her the eye. Whatever, she thought to herself. Then she felt him pushing at her mind with his, trying to see what was inside her head. She bit her lip and tried to resist.  
  
"And, you, young one. What do you do in company such as this? This is far too uncivilised a rabble for a Lady to travel with. It is improper even, and I'm sure that none have looked to your safety in such dark and dangerous times."  
  
Dawn almost snorted. Yeah right- she'd been more safe than she'd bargained for at Helm's Deep, the Fellowship had seen to that. And that patronising deal wasn't exactly earning Saruman any points with her either.  
  
The Wizard leaned forward on his balcony a little too eagerly. "Come, child. If you stay with this kindly old man, I shall keep you from harm, and you shall have all you wish for," he promised.  
  
Dawn raised an eyebrow at Saruman. He gestured to Dawn with his hand. "Speak, child. Declare your mind to all."  
  
Dawn raised an eyebrow. "You wanna know what's on my mind, right at this very moment?" she asked.  
  
Saruman, missing the sarcastic tone to her voice, and the wicked gleam in her eye, nodded encouragingly. The others watched, half- intrigued, half-afraid at what would become of Dawn.  
  
Dawn opened her mouth and gave Saruman her best Steven Tyler impression.  
  
"/Janie's got a gun  
Janie's got a gun  
Her dog day's just begun  
Now everybody is on the run  
What did her Daddy do?  
It was Janie's last I.O.U.  
She had to take him down easy and put a bullet in his brain  
She said coz nobody believes me- the man was such a sleaze  
He ain't never gonna be the same....../"  
  
"Enough!" Saruman growled, angering at her.  
  
"/Run away, run away from the pain  
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah  
Run away, run awa.../" Dawn continued happily until she was cut off again.  
  
"Silence!" Saruman practically screamed. "Insolent girl!"  
  
Dawn just grinned innocently back. "What? I've had that damn song stuck in my head for hours," she told the Wizard.  
  
"Buttmonkey," she said quietly as Saruman stormed away from the balcony.  
  
Those standing immediately near her, namely the Hobbits, Legolas and Gimli, wondered what in Middle-Earth a 'buttmonkey' was. They were also incredibly interested in the song she'd just sung, but that, like an explanation for 'buttmonkey', would have to wait.  
  
"Come back Saruman!" Gandalf cried, and to everyone's astonishment, the other Wizard returned against his own will.  
  
They watched as Gandalf let his power shine. He cast Saruman out of the Order and broke his staff. As a parting shot, Wormtongue hurled something out of Orthanc's high window at them.  
  
It hit the ground and rolled, Pippin chased it and picked it up. They heard Saruman screaming with rage at Wormtongue as they turned away.  
  
As soon as he saw what had been thrown, Gandalf took the Palentir away from Pippin, concealing it in his robes. It was decided that they had to ride out at once, Theoden had sent messengers already calling a muster at Eodras.  
  
Dawn retrieved Lightfoot, who had been grazing just outside the wreck of Isengard with Shadowfax and the rest of the horses. She heard someone clearing his throat behind her and turned.  
  
Gimli stood before her, looking embarrassed. She kept her expression neutral and waited for him to speak.  
  
"Dawn... I, uh, I... was hoping that.... well," he looked down, but looked up again after a moment.  
  
"I meant you no harm, my young friend, and am grieved to have hurt you.... Will you... can I....?" he swallowed. Dawn's expression did not change. Gimli sighed and blurted his request out.  
  
"Would you let me ride with you?"  
  
Dawn stared at him a moment. She couldn't believe her ears. She began to get angry that he had the nerve to ask her for a favour after everything, and was about to tell him off when a sudden realisation hit her. This was Gimli asking for forgiveness, putting himself at her mercy for it. She couldn't speak.  
  
Gimli figured she wasn't going to relent and turned sadly to walk away. Dawn found her voice again. "Gimli- wait," she called.  
  
He turned back with a hopeful look.  
  
She gave him a small smile. "No axe-talk, ok?"  
  
He chuckled roughly. "Thank you, Dawn," he said.  
  
She mounted, a task which she was getting much better at by now, and motioned Eomer over.  
  
"Milady," he said easily by way of greeting.  
  
"Hey Eomer," she returned, just as easily.  
  
Gimli frowned as he watched the two humans grinning at each other. They were comfortable together, too comfortable for his liking. He had noticed the tendencies of humans to do strange things when they became a slave to their passions, and it never ended well. Gimli had to admit that he was worried Dawn would do something rash and give her heart to the Marshal just to spite Legolas. He hoped it didn't come to that, for the sake of all of them.  
  
"Can you help Gimli up for me?" Dawn asked Eomer, breaking into the Dwarf's thoughts.  
  
"If he forgives me my rash words against the Lady of the Golden Wood," Eomer replied, turning his grin in Gimli's direction. "I spoke only as all men I've known longer than a few days speak, and would gladly learn better."  
  
Gimli nodded. "I will pardon you for now, Marshal. But if you have the chance to see the Lady Galadriel with your own eyes, you will acknowledge her the fairest of all beings, or my axe shall be your teacher," he warned.  
  
Eomer laughed. "In such days as these, learning the praise of a fair lady under the loving strokes of a Dwarf's axe will seem no great marvel."  
  
Even Gimli had to laugh at that.  
  
"Uh- hello? Can we stop chatting about the hotness of Galadriel and get moving already?" Dawn interrupted.  
  
Eomer immediately remembered himself and helped Gimli up behind Dawn, before easily mounting Firefoot. Together, they turned and rode away from Isengard.  
  
They moved at a fair pace, but Dawn still managed to see the progress of the other people she knew. They were the rearguard of the host for now, and ahead of them, Dawn could see that Gandalf rode beside Theoden as the King led them. Just behind them, was Legolas, carrying Merry in front of him, and Aragorn, who had Pippin. Dawn frowned and looked away as the Elf turned his head, catching sight of her with Gimli and Eomer. He was checking up on her, too.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"What the crap?" Dawn mumbled sleepily as the sounds of voices dragged her into consciousness. "I was having the nicest sleep..." she sighed to no-one in particular as she sat up and looked around.  
  
Gandalf was towering over Pippin, who was trembling and begging for forgiveness. It soon became apparent that the young Hobbit had taken the Palentir from Gandalf as he slept and looked into it.  
  
Dawn felt bad for Pippin. She could tell he was genuinely frightened and sorry as he cowered on the ground, Merry by his side. Gandalf assured him it was all right when he saw that there was no dishonesty about Pippin, and that though Sauron had questioned him, the Dark Lord had gotten no crucial information.  
  
Thinking quickly, Gandalf decided that he had to take Pippin away from the Palentir, to ensure the stone's hold over him was completely broken. He told Theoden and Aragorn to ride with all haste as soon as the day broke, and placed Pippin on Shadowfax before him.  
  
"Of all the luck- getting to ride on Shadowfax," Merry muttered.  
  
An icy chill rushed over them, and the Riders, who had never felt anything as terrifying as the Nazgul passing overhead before, were terrified. Legolas, however, managed to fire off a shot or two into the beast which carried the Nazgul, and it flew away with a blood-curdling shriek.  
  
Gandalf was gazing up. "Nazgul!," he cried. "The messenger of Mordor. The storm is coming. The Nazgul have crossed the river! Ride, ride! Wait not for the dawn! Let not the swift wait for the slow! Ride!"  
  
Gandalf was gone, the others scrambling to break camp and leave. In the rush, Dawn noted that she was riding alone again- Gimli was already on Arod with Legolas, and Merry was with Aragorn.  
  
Eomer came riding up beside her. "Stay close to me, Dawn."  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. "You do know that I can take care of myself, right?"  
  
"I know."  
  
Eomer spurred his horse on and Dawn followed. She passed Arod and Hafusel without so much as a glance at their riders, and concentrated on the road.  
  
It was a moment before she realised that Aragorn was calling her name. She was still debating whether or not she wanted to answer him when Gimli and Merry called out to her. She relented and drew even with them, Lightfoot's pace matching Arod's and Hafusel's.  
  
Aragorn was speaking. They were discussing what their course of action would be now. "The King will go to the muster that he commanded at Edoras, four nights from now. And there, I think, he will hear tidings of war, and the riders of Rohan will go down to Minas Tirith. But for myself, and any that will go with me..."  
  
"I for one!" cried Legolas.  
  
"And Gimli with him!" said the Dwarf. Dawn rolled her eyes and said nothing. She wasn't so sure about her loyalties these days.  
  
"Well, for myself," said Aragorn. "It is dark before me. I must go down also to Minas Tirith, but I do not yet see the road."  
  
"Don't leave me behind," Merry begged. He didn't want to be treated as useless baggage any more. He wanted to make a difference somehow.  
  
Aragorn looked down at the small figure riding in front of him. "I do think your path lies with King Theoden, Merry," he said softly, and left it at that for the time being. He turned to Dawn. "And you, Dawn? What is your decision? Which way shall you take?"  
  
Dawn looked at him through guarded eyes, but did not get a chance to speak because at that moment, the rearguard called that horsemen were overtaking them. The company halted immediately. Aragorn dismounted, letting Merry down with him and stood by the King's stirrup, sword in hand. Eomer took the other side as the persuers approached.  
  
"Halt! Halt! Who rides in Rohan?" Eomer called in a loud voice when the horsemen were close enough.  
  
They stopped, and a lone figure dismounted and began walking slowly towards them, hands out and empty before him in token of peace. He stopped about ten paces from the King's horse. He was tall, a dark standing shadow. He spoke.  
  
"Rohan? Rohan did you say? That is a glad word, we seek that land in haste from long afar."  
  
"You have found it," replied Eomer. "But this is the realm of Theoden the King. None ride here save by his leave. Who are you? And what is your haste?"  
  
"Halbarad Dunadan, Ranger of the North I am," the man said. "We seek one Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard that he was in Rohan."  
  
"And you have found him also!" cried Aragorn. Giving his reins to Merry, he ran forward and embraced the newcomer. "Halbarad!" he said. "Of all the joys this is the least expected! All is well," he said, turning back. "Here are some of my own kin from the far land where I dwelt. But why they come, and how many they be, Halbarad shall tell us."  
  
"I have thirty with me. That is all of our kindred that could be gathered in haste; but the brethren Elladan and Elrohir have ridden with us, desiring to go to the war." The rest of the Dunedain, and Elrond's sons rode up to meet the Riders. Elladan and Elrohir stopped their horses beside Halbarad. The three of them studied the faces around them.  
  
"Wow. Bet they get asked for threesomes all the time," Dawn said to herself, taking in the handsome dark-haired Elves that had ridden up.  
  
Her comment brought Halbarad's attention to Dawn's presence. "What is this!?" he cried, causing both the dark-haired Elves to lock their eyes on Dawn.  
  
"This is the Lady Dawn Summers," Aragorn said quietly. "She joined our Fellowship just 'ere we reached Lothlorien. She is a comrade, and a fellow warrior, who has come through many trials with us," he stated.  
  
Halbarad, however, was only half listening as he wandered over to take a closer look at Dawn. "No warrior are you, little Lady," he said, running his eyes over her. "But you are a pretty thing..."  
  
"Thing?" Dawn interrupted, eyebrows raised. She glared down at the new Ranger from her perch on Lightfoot's back. "I am not a thing, Lord Halbarad. I am a woman," she told him.  
  
Then she furrowed her brow at him and feigned concern. "You have seen a woman before, I hope?"  
  
Halbarad flushed as those around him, including the twin Elves and Aragorn, began to laugh. Halbarad found his voice again after a moment.  
  
"And you intend to travel the path alongside Aragorn, Lady Dawn?" he asked, clearly dubious at the notion.  
  
Dawn looked straight past him and stared squarely into Aragorn's grey eyes. "Yes," she answered the question he had asked her earlier. "I'm still in."  
  
Aragorn offered her the smallest smile and Dawn nodded before turning away. Then he, Halbarad and Eomer quickly remounted their horses.  
  
The Riders set out again, and the Fellowship for a while rode with the Dunedain. When they had finished giving all the news they had from both North and South, Elrohir turned to Aragorn. "I bring word to you from my father: *The days are short. If thou art in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead.*"  
  
Aragorn nodded to his foster brother and turned to Halbarad. While the Rangers began conversing about a staff that Halbarad was holding, a gift to Aragorn from Arwen, with a message, Dawn rode quietly up beside Elrohir.  
  
He noticed her presence and turned to look at Dawn. "Hey..." she said, trying to find her way into a conversation with the Elf without offending him. "I, uh, guess we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Dawn," she gave him her friendliest smile.  
  
Elrohir smiled back at the young Lady. "Elrohir, son of Elrond Halfelven, Lord of Rivendell at your service, my Lady." He bowed his head to her slightly.  
  
"Um... that's really neato," Dawn replied. She hadn't been expecting his life story, she just wanted to ask a question. "So, Elrohir... I kinda overheard you and Est- Aragorn talking, and I was wondering... what are the Paths of the Dead?"  
  
Elrohir looked at her gravely a moment before telling her about the Paths of the Dead. "They lay under a cursed mountain not far beyond Dunharrow, it is said. Though few have been there, and none that I know have ridden so far. The cursed ghosts of men who betrayed Elendil-"  
  
"Oh! I know Elendil!" Dawn interrupted, counting the family tree down on her fingers. "Aragorn in Isildur son of Elendil's heir of Gondor, right?" she said, beaming smugly at her own knowledge.  
  
Elrohir smiled at her youthful energy before he continued. "That is right my Lady. And those who betrayed Elendil remain on the paths, until they fulfil their oaths to the line of Kings and are freed. I have often heard it said that the dead will suffer no living man to pass."  
  
Aragorn, who had finished hearing Halbarad's message from Arwen, joined in to the conversation at that point. "Yet I believe they will suffer Isildur's heir to pass," he said confidently. "As it offers them a chance to break their curse and go to their final rest."  
  
"Break the curse by fulfilling their oath? To fight with the line of Kings?" Dawn questioned, to which Elrohir and Aragorn both nodded.  
  
"Allright-y then!" Dawn exclaimed with fake cheeriness. "Let's go to war with our only back-up as a bunch of dead guys known for recanting on their promises! Sounds like a Sunnydale kinda excursion," she said. "All we need is a coupla re-ensouled demons!"  
  
Elrohir frowned. He did not understand most of what she'd said, but he knew that this was not the time for fooling around. Dawn noticed his look and smiled brightly.  
  
"Oh, c'mon, 'Ro. Lighten up- I was kidding. No re-ensouled demons," she put on her best puppy face and it worked. Elrohir's resolve crumbled and he grinned at her.  
  
Aragorn laughed and shook his head. Dawn could manipulate anyone with that look. He bet even Sauron couldn't say no to that face. He sobered up again when he noticed Dawn staring at him. Elrohir sensed the tension between the two and wisely stayed silent. He watched with curiosity though as Dawn began to speak.  
  
"Well, guess anything's possible with you around, Estel," she said quietly.  
  
Elrohir looked shocked at her use of Aragorn's Elvish name. Aragorn also looked shocked, but his was a pleasant surprise. She hadn't called him Estel since Helm's Deep. She had addressed him exactly twice, and both times she had coldly called him Aragorn. Even Legolas, riding a few metres away, catching up with his old friend Elladan, had looked over, unnoticed by Dawn. A small smile graced his features and he turned his attention back to the other Elf. Dawn had made up with both Gimli and Aragorn, it seemed. He could hope now, at least.  
  
"Thank you, Seler'nin," Aragorn responded warmly. He reached over and took one of Dawn's hands from the reins. He went to move it to his lips, but she stopped him.  
  
"You do realise that if you ever hurt me like that again, I will castrate you with your own sword," she said quietly, staring into his eyes.  
  
Aragorn looked a little taken aback. "I know not what this 'castrate' means, but I swear to you I shall never give you an opportunity to teach me, Dawny. Do you forgive me then?"  
  
When she nodded, Aragorn lifted her hand and kissed it before replacing it gently un the reins. Dawn smiled, she was feeling a little better. Elrohir stared at them, utterly dumbfounded by the scene that had just played itself out before his eyes.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: R&R! And as for the threesome comment- c'mon, who *hasn't* wondered about Elladan & Elrohir! ~Anoron. 


	12. Chapter 12: Creepy Places and Dead Guys

They had left Merry with Theoden. Dawn was sorry to leave him, and she knew she'd miss him, but she was determined to keep her word and travel with Aragorn and the Dunedain to the Paths of the Dead. Plus they had to pass through Dunharrow, where Eowyn was, and she could defineitely use a little more oestrogen in the mix.  
  
The White Lady stood alone in the dusk, waiting to greet them as they rode up. "Girlfriend," Dawn squealed, giving her an enthusiastic hug.  
  
Eowyn laughed. "Hello... sista," she replied awkwardly, in an attempt to put into practice some of the 'valley-speak' Dawn had insisted on teaching her. However, she had firmly refused to greet her brother at Helm's Deep with "Yo, bro."  
  
She turned to welcome the rest of the travellers, her gaze lingering on Aragorn slightly longer than necessary. Dawn bit her lip. She really wished she could talk to Eowyn about this impossible romance she had her heart set on, but it wasn't her place and Dawn knew it wouldn't do any good.  
  
At once, Eowyn had ordered food prepared for them, and sat to eat with her guests. All through the meal, the two young women chattered happily away about everything they had been doing in the few days it had been since they'd parted. But Dawn noticed that Eowyn's gaze often strayed in Aragorn's direction, where he sat flanked by his two foster brothers, Elladan and Elrohir. Dawn wasn't the only one watching her companions, however. Eowyn's eyes shone a little sadly as she saw Legolas often staring in Dawn's direction, but Dawn behaved as if the Elven Prince did not even exist. They had seemed so happy together in Edoras, but she could not blame Dawn for her anger.  
  
As soon as they finished eating, Eowyn had tents set up for them, promising that in the morning she would find better accommodation for them. Aragorn declined the offer, saying they had to move on at daybreak with an important errand.  
  
Eowyn was a little confused. She had lived in Rohan all her life and she knew there were no paths they could take out here, save for the worst one, Dunharrow was so isolated. She smiled at Aragorn. "Then it was kindly done, lord, to ride so many miles out of your way to bring tidings to Eowyn, and to speak with her in her exile."  
  
Aragorn replied that his path did lead him to Dunharrow.  
  
Eowyn didn't like what she was hearing. She told him to go back the way he came.  
  
When Aragorn told her tht they were taking the Paths of the Dead, she stared at him, stricken, her face blanched. Dawn looked on sympathetically. The others all took their leave and left. Dawn followed behind reluctantly.  
  
They were now arguing. Finally, Eowyn accepted the fact that Aragorn wouldn't change his mind. Then she begged to come with him. In the end, Aragorn looked at her sternly.  
  
"Stay! You have no errand to the South."  
  
Eowyn was now choking back tears. "Neither have those others that go with thee. They go only because they would not be parted from thee- because they love thee." She turned and stormed away.  
  
Eowyn had insisted that Dawn lodge with her for the night. She didn't feel comfortable with her young friend sleeping in a tent, surrounded by thirty strange men. When she reached her room, she found that Dawn had already bathed quickly and was sitting on the bed brushing her long brown hair out.  
  
Dawn took one look at Eowyn's face and held her arms out. Eowyn crashed into a hug, letting a few stray tears slide down her cheeks.  
  
Before sunrise even, Aragorn was making ready to leave. In between rubbing sleep from her eyes, Dawn glared at him indignantly. This was unbelievable, she figured it had to be about four in the morning. 'What kind of idiot gets up at this hour?' she thought to herself.  
  
When Elladan, completely alert and unaffected by the ridiculous hour, glided gracefully by, Dawn couldn't resist sticking out a foot to trip him. Elladan glared at her, but heard the loud laughter of his brother behind him, and turned his attention that way.  
  
Eowyn approached, dressed as a Rider. Dawn bit her lip. This was not going to be pretty. Again Eowyn asked to join him, and again she begged, but Aragorn was steadfast in his refusal.  
  
The feminist in Dawn bristled a little, but she could see the pain in Aragorn's eyes, he hated having to do this to the Lady. But he had no choice. He kissed her hand and left her alone to cry as they left her behind.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn's skin was crawling. The Paths of the Dead were officially creepy. Leading her horse, she pushed to the head of the group. She wanted to be close to Aragorn. Like a brother, he'd make her feel safe. Plus, he had a torch. The other torchbearer was Elladan, at the rear, and Legolas was travelling too close to the other Elf for her comfort. She didn't want him to see her afraid like this. And she was pretty sure Elladan was still angry with her for tripping him.  
  
Aragorn felt someone come up close beside him and knew instinctively who it was. "Are you all right, Dawny?" he breathed in her ear.  
  
He couldn't see it, but she gave him a brave smile in return. "Yeah, Estel. Just having a minor... ok, major case of the wiggins over here. I'll be ok."  
  
"You have not seen the dead before?"  
  
Dawn furrowed her brow. "Well, actually, three dead people tried to kill me in the basement on my first day of high school," she told him.  
  
Walking behing the pair, Elrohir and Halbarad shot each other astonished glances. This girl, who in a matter of weeks had become so close to Aragorn that he considered her a sister, was discussing life- threatening encounters with the dead as if it was a common occurrence. Elrohir shook his head. He was beginning to get used to the bewilderment the girl brought out in him.  
  
"And the First took the form of dead people," Dawn realised, and began chattering about all ther various dead people she had seen, or heard of, the First impersonating to work its evil, deliberately leaving out her mother. She reasoned, still, all this time later, that it could really have been her mother appearing to her that night.  
  
"Ooh! Oh! Then there was that time my sister was possessed by the ghost of a guy who killed his lover and then committed suicide. See, he was a student, and she was his teacher and they were having an affair and when she broke it off, he went schiz and accidentally shot her, then he blew his brains out all over the music room wall, as Buffy put it."  
  
Aragorn watched Dawn beside him, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. Colour had returned to her cheeks, and she was relaxed, now at ease with herself, despite their surroundings. She caught the smile and returned it with a shrug. She was ok.  
  
A glimmer in the darkness caught their attention and Aragorn went to investigate. It was a skeleton. Aragorn turned from it and cried out into the darkness.  
  
"Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the stone of Erech!"  
  
The silent response was deafening, and a blast of icy wind from nowhere it seemed blew the torches out, and they couldn't relight them. Dawn let out a frightened whimper in the darkness. She fumbled for Aragorn's hand, and held tight when she finally caught it.  
  
They stumbled forwards, pursued by the dead, and it seemed like forever before finally Gimli could hear a trickle of water, and see the faint light growing.  
  
Amazingly, when they came out into the open sky, it was still a couple of hours before sunset on the same day. Dawn shook her head. This was too wierd. Sunnydale wierd, even.  
  
They mounted their horses and kept going. Dawn stayed near Aragorn, at the front of the company. She didn't hear the three to the rear, Gimli, Legolas and Elladan, speaking quietly to each other.  
  
Legolas turned to speak to Gimli, and Gimli could see a glitter in the Elf's bright eyes. "The Dead are following," said Legolas. "I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are following."  
  
"Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned," said Elladan.  
  
Just before midnight, they reached their destination, the Hill of Erech. Aragorn was only going to allow them a few hours to rest, but tired as she was, Dawn didn't mind. All the dead noises around them would make sleep impossible. She stood, rugging herself up as best she could in her cloak to wait for the light.  
  
She heard someone come to stand next to her and turned with a smile, anticipating to see Aragorn checking up on her. When she saw who had actually joined her, her smile froze on her face.  
  
"Hello, Dawn," Legolas said quietly.  
  
She gave him her most intimidating death stare. "What do you want?"  
  
"To talk to you," he returned amiably.  
  
"Well, too bad, Legolas. Because I really don't want to talk to you!" Dawn's voice had risen a little, and a few of the company looked over to see the disturbance.  
  
Legolas looked a little confused, and hurt. She would now speak to both Gimli and Aragorn, why would she not speak to him? "Why not?" he asked, sounding for all the world like a spoiled child.  
  
"You've gotta be kidding me!" Dawn exclaimed. "After everything you've put me through, you think you can just waltz up and expect me to play nice again because you feel like it! Let me ask you, Legolas, exactly how far is your head up your ass?"  
  
Legolas looked bewildered. Elrohir's heart went out to him. The Elven Prince shook his head. "Well, Dawn, I just thought you might have come to your senses and realised I was doing what I had to in order to protect you."  
  
Dawn was so angry she could not speak. She burst into tears instead.  
  
Legolas immediately softened towards her. "I miss you."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah? Well whose fault is that?" she spat out before storming out of the rough camp.  
  
Aragorn found her a few minutes later. He followed the sounds of sniffling through the darkness to the far side of the hill. There sat Dawn, huddled in her cloak and ignoring the dead whispers around her, trying in vain to smother the sounds of her sobs.  
  
He sat down next to her, and she threw herself into his arms. A little taken aback, Aragorn took a moment before patting her shoulder sympathetically. He wasn't exactly sure of what to do- eighteen year old girls were not a species he came across very often in his travels.  
  
He shook his head. It was almost as if she'd been reduced to a mere lonely child once more. Not knowing what else to do, Aragorn sat patiently by the girl as she began to choke out broken words.  
  
"Why does he keep making me feel so bad? Why does he hurt me like this?" she asked.  
  
"He does not mean to," Aragorn murmured soothingly, stroking her hair.  
  
"He doesn't care," Dawn retorted bitterly.  
  
"On the contrary, Dawny, he cares a great deal," he confided. Dawn looked up at him then, her wide eyes still brimming with tears, and Aragorn elaborated.  
  
"I have known Legolas for many years. When I first met him, I was a lad half your age, and we have been firm friends from that day on. Elves are hard creatures to understand, but once you truly know them, they become easier to fathom. Legolas acted from fear, and love and he would gladly have spared your pain if he could. He would accept for you to be angry with him and live, than to love him and die."  
  
Dawn sucked her tears back. "He could've talked to me about all this stuff, but I guess he just doesn't trust me enough to bother. Anyway, the point is, he lied to me. He stood there with a smile on his face and he lied to me! It's so degrading. God, Estel, I've never felt so used in all my life."  
  
Aragorn was confused by her choice of words. "Used?" he asked.  
  
Dawn nodded but refused to say any more. She looked away. A shamed blush was creeping up to stain her cheeks. A flash of warm skin and loving caresses came unbidden into her mind, a memory of that night in Edoras. Dawn winced and pushed the thought aside. She wondered what her 'brother' would think of her if he knew what she'd been up to. With someone ten times as old as Angel, no less! She was pretty sure if Middle-Earth hadn't gotten the memo about the feminist movement, they had probably missed the one about the sexual revolution, as well.  
  
"You were lied to by more whom you hold dear in your heart than Legolas. You well know the role Gimli and I played in deceiving you at Helm's Deep. And yet you have found it in your heart to forgive us," Aragorn said slowly. He still wasn't quite sure he understood Dawn.  
  
Before she could censure herself, Dawn found she had replied, "You could not use me as he did, because I did not trust myself as completely to you as I did him."  
  
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Dawn cringed inwardly. Any second now, Aragorn was going to figure it out, and tell her what a slut she was, and refuse to have anything more to do with her. Dawn bit her lip and steeled herself against the tears welling again in her eyes. Then she would be completely alone. She wished that Spike or Tara was with her so she could talk to them, they'd understand.  
  
Aragorn, meanwhile, was lost in a memory. He was remembering the road from Edoras to Helm's Deep. The quiet happiness of Dawn and Legolas, the secret smiles passing between the pair. The fact that he'd spent almost an hour before daybreak looking for Legolas, who was not to be found anywhere, and the Elf's noncommittal shrug to explain his whereabouts when Aragorn finally found him. He hid a smirk from Dawn. In retrospect, it was painfully obvious, and Aragorn found it incredible that nobody had noticed, or even conceived of the idea that the Elf had spent the night in the young Lady's bed.  
  
The silence stretched on between them. Finally, Aragorn planted a kiss on the side of Dawn's head. "Must you do everything the hard way, little sister?"  
  
Dawn stared at him a second, as if trying to comprehend the fact that he wasn't blaming her, or judging her. He was joking with her. She let out a short laugh. "Take after my sister... and my brother," she replied and wiped at her wet cheeks.  
  
* * * * *  
  
They had the Dead help them storm the wharf and take control of the enemy ships moored there. When the ships were completely taken, Aragorn released the Dead from their curse. Dawn almost laughed. She'd fought against dead people before, but never with them. She excluded Spike and Angel immediately on the grounds that they were technically UNdead, and every time Buffy died, she came back to life, so she wasn't really dead when she was fighting anyway. And she herself was pretty active for someone who'd thrown herself from a tower in another dimension.  
  
Speed was of the essence: they had to reach Gondor before Minas Tirith fell so they left at once. The weather was against them for sailing, but just when it appeared they would never move out of the cove, and they'd still be sitting there when Sauron's forces over-ran the entire world, the wind picked up and they were off.  
  
They came sailing down the river in the enemy ships. Dawn watched Aragorn, standing tall and proud at the bow of the lead ship. She was standing a few paces beyond him with a small smile of pride and sisterly affection gracing her features. He was flanked on one side by Legolas and Gimli, with Halbarad and the sons of Elrond on the other side.  
  
She moved up and took her place beside Gimli. They could now see the battlefield looming closer. The Rohirrim did not seem to be faring well. Dawn stared at the field. She was horrified, but had schooled her face into a mask of calm. She felt six pairs of male eyes scrutinising her and turned to Aragorn with a half smile.  
  
"So. Is it time to go kick some ass, or what?"  
  
The element of surprise had worked perfectly. The enemy barely knew what hit them when Aragorn and company came storming out of their own ships.  
  
Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir all spared a second to toss a grin in each others' direction when their Elvish ears caught the sound of Eomer's voice shouting out at their arrival from far across the battlefield.  
  
Aragorn, as usual, was leading the way. He was stabbing and slicing his way through the Orcs and Wild Men and Southrons that evaded the bows of Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan long enough to reach them. Those who were able to slip by Aragorn's sword immediately felt the bite of Gimli's axe. Dawn had lost count of the number of heads she'd seen taken off by the growling Dwarf in minutes.  
  
Then again, she didn't exactly have time to stop and count. She was in full swing battle mode, just like the rest of the Rangers. The first time a human had attacked her, she'd been apprehensive about going for the kill. She'd never killed a man before, and she didn't want to go the way Faith had gone. It had taken so much pain and effort for the rogue Slayer to redeem herself, and even now she was still fighting for it.  
  
Then common sense and self-preservation kicked in. She was a warrior, fighting against an evil that wanted to enslave the world. This evil just happened to have human minions, as well as other. She stabbed her sword through the throat of a man and went to move on. But there was nowhere to go.  
  
Dawn found that she, Gimli and Halbarad had been completely surrounded. She cursed herself, Buffy would be so disappointed in her, she'd lost awareness of herself and her environment in the fight. She went back to back, forming a triangle with Gimli and Halbarad, so they were covered an all sides.  
  
When Gimli let out a great, rumbling war cry, they all sprang into the attack. Gimli buried his double-headed axe deep between the shoulder and neck of one of the enemy, and pulled it out so forcefully that it buried its other blade in the chest of another standing nearby.  
  
Halbarad took on three at once. He knocked the first down with his elbow and skewered the second through the stomach with his sword. The thrid was a little more difficult. He blocked Halbarad's wide swing and the two began to parry back and forth. Finally, Halbarad managed to land a fatal blow on the side of his opponent, but in the heat of the fight, he'd forgotten about the first attacker he'd elbowed aside.  
  
Dawn noticed the numbers of their immediate opponents growing thinner. She could hear the sickening crunch of axe on bone on her right as she swung around to look left, to Halbarad. Just as their eyes met across the small distance, the most unsettling look of shock came into the Ranger's eyes. Half a second later, the bloodied tip of a sword exploded through Halbarad's chest.  
  
Dawn shrieked, but Halbarad was already dead as he fell. She charged in his direction, reaching the body just as it landed face-first in the dirt. The Southron responsible was reaching down to pull his sword from the corpse, but before he could, Me'ahyanda stabbed straight through his heart. The Southron sank to his knees and Dawn decapitated him for good measure.  
  
She heard Gimli's enraged shout behind her and knew he'd just seen what had become of Halbarad. The pair regrouped, standing back to back again.  
  
"C'mon, I still say we can take 'em," Gimli challenged.  
  
"Damn straight," Dawn accepted.  
  
The two attacked the thinned circle of their opponents with renewed vigour. They had no idea where the rest of the company had gone, if they were ok, and, if they were, if they had even noticed that three of them were missing in action.  
  
An arrow landed in the chest of one of the Southrons. Dawn blinked, confused for a split second, before turning back to the task at hand. As she decaptiated her opponent, the two comrades flanking him on either side also lost their heads. The three bodies fell to the ground together and Dawn blinked again.  
  
Then, standing in the place of their enemies were Aragorn and Eomer, bloodied swords in their hands. She noticed the almost wild look in the Marshal's eyes. Something, besides the urge to stay alive, had really set him on fire through this battle. Dawn was now thoroughly lost. She looked around, and saw more enemy bodies littering the ground with arrows sticking out of them. Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan had materialised beside Gimli.  
  
Dawn realised thst the battle was almost over. And they had won. The Rangers were helping the Rohirrim pick off the last few enemy soldiers. Without realising it, the trio of Dawn, Gimli and Halbarad had pushed their foes in the direction of Eomer and their allies.  
  
Eomer and Aragorn were leaning on their swords, grinning wearily at each other. As promised, Aragorn had met with his friend on the battlefield, though all the hosts of Mordor lay in between them. The others stood tiredly by them, until Aragorn looked around, taking attendance of his friends.  
  
"Where is Halbarad?" he asked quietly.  
  
Dawn and Gimli shared a glance. "I'm sorry, Estel," Dawn responded. She didn't need to say any more. Aragorn nodded and the twins bowed their heads in a moment of respect to farewell their friend.  
  
Eomer turned his eyes towards the city of Minas Tirith. It was clear he was anxious to get inside those gates for some reason. The group made their way through the streets together, ignoring the stares of the few people left within the city walls. They finally split up, Eomer heading towards the castle, the others making for the Houses of Healing.  
  
* * * * * 


	13. Chapter 13: Where Do We Go From Here?

Dawn stepped into Eowyn's room, her eyes fixed on the bed. She could hear Aragorn out in the hall, yelling at some old woman who talked too much to find some athelas, but she tuned him out. Her friend was paler than usual, and drawn against the pillows. Her left arm had been bandaged and put in a sling, and her right arm lay doormant beside her.  
  
Tentatively, Dawn reached out to touch the unmoving hand. She was reminded a little of seeing her mother's corpse in the hospital morgue. Eowyn was so cold Dawn actually shivered and pulled away. She curled in the bedside chair to wait for Aragorn to finish healing Faramir, now the Steward of Gondor so he could come and help the White Lady.  
  
Minutes later, Eomer stormed in, Aragorn barely a step behind. Dawn moved out of the way to make room for the men. Aragorn tended to Eowyn's poisoned arm with the athelas, and left Eomer to talk to her, hoping her brother's voice would coax her back into consciousness.  
  
Eomer sank into the chair, eyes wide with fear as he looked at his little sister, so quiet and unmoving, almost lost in the large bed. Dawn watched him sadly for a moment, before giving him a supportive kiss on his forehead and dashing out to catch up with the others, who were watching Aragorn tend to Merry.  
  
She bit her lip to keep from laughing as Aragorn teased Merry, who was unable to locate his pack, which was currently sitting at the foot of the bed, in plain view of everyone but the injured Hobbit.  
  
When Aragorn and the others left Merry under Pippin's care to rest, Dawn stayed behind to hear his story. Merry and Eowyn had disobeyed the King's orders for them to remain behind as they marched into battle, and had attacked, and killed the Witch King of Angmar, the head Nazgul.  
  
Dawn shook her head. If this didn't teach them about equality, nothing would. She did not have time to dwell on the thought though, as someone had just mentioned the tragic fall of Theoden, King of Rohan on the battlefield. She felt a little guilty. She'd noticed he was missing from among them, but it hadn't dawned on her that he had been killed. And now Eomer was the King.  
  
After a few minutes of discussing the kindly old man Merry had become such fast friends with, they made time to hear Pippin's story of why Faramir had needed the healing skill of Aragorn so urgently.  
  
It was sickening to think that a father could want control of his son so badly as to almost will for him to die, and go so far as to try and immolate him, as Denethor had done with Faramir. Pippin had discovered the plan, and summoned Gandalf, which, Dawn decided, explained the Wizard's conspicuous absence from the battlefield.  
  
She watched as the two young Hobbits dropped off to sleep beside one another and covered them over with a blanket. While she was watching over them, Aragorn came from war counsels to speak with her.  
  
"I looked into the Palentir a few days ago," he confessed to her.  
  
Dawn said nothing, just listened.  
  
"I managed to control it over Sauron, which was a grievous blow to him. Nearly killed me though," he joked with a crooked smile.  
  
She smiled back and rested her head on his shoulder, patting his knee supportively as he continued.  
  
"By drawing the attention of the Eye towards me, I hope I can create enough of a distraction for Frodo and Sam... Valar-willing they are all right... to slip into Mount Doom unnoticed. But now a hard fate awaits me, Dawny. I started this chain of events, and I am bound to see it through. So we march. In two days, we are gathering an army to ride to Mordor in hopes that Sauron will believe I have the Ring and focus his wrath on me."  
  
"Good plan," Dawn murmured.  
  
"It will most likely kill us all," Aragorn responded, his sadness and guilt resonating through his words.  
  
Dawn nodded. "Well, yeah, there is that. But it's still the right thing to do. Sometimes the only way to win is accepting that you will lose, Estel."  
  
"You're coming with me, aren't you?" he asked, resigned before she had even answered.  
  
"Yeah," Dawn responded softly.  
  
Their attention turned back to the sleeping Hobbits. "They will hate to be left behind, but they cannot come. Not this time."  
  
"One of them can," Dawn pointed out. Off Aragorn's look, she continued. "They deserve to represent their people, just like the Elves and Dwarves... and the Keys, and Pippin is physically capable of the march. Whatever the danger to him, he won't stay behind."  
  
Aragorn nodded, knowing she was right. He watched Pippin, moved by the innocence of the tiny being as he snored softly. He felt a pair of arms creeping around his waist.  
  
"Your family would be so proud of you, Estel. All your different families, I mean. I know I am."  
  
Aragorn kissed the top of her head. "Thank you Seler'nin. But I find the word 'family' strange to me, I always felt like I never had a true family to belong to," he admitted. Somehow he knew that Dawn both understood and shared his pain.  
  
"You belong to none of them, yet you are loved by all of them. Like me," she explained.  
  
He smirked. "Right you are, Dawn."  
  
* * * * *  
  
It took five days for them to march to Mordor, and they arrived in the grey gloom of early morning. The Nazgul hovered above Barad-dur and watched as a group of captains marched forward. Gandalf was chief herald, Aragorn and the sons of Elrond went as well, as did Eomer and the Prince of Dol Amroth, Imrahil. Legolas, Gimli, Pippin and Dawn were also included so that all enemies of Mordor should have a witness.  
  
They called Sauron out, but nothing happened for the longest time.  
  
"Bored now," called Dawn in a sing-song voice, mimicking Vamp Will.  
  
Now used to her odd wit, Elrohir grinned at the young woman next to him.  
  
"Sorry, 'Ro," she smiled sheepishly. "Did I say that out loud?"  
  
Just as they were about to turn away, giving up on receiving an answer to their challenge, a long, thunderous drumbeat sounded and the Lieutenant of Barad-dur rode out with a small guard. He introduced himself as the Mouth of Sauron.  
  
"Pfft. Don't any bad-guy minions around here have decent names?" Dawn muttered, half to herself, half to Elrohir, who just shook his head at her. First Grima Wormtongue, now the Mouth of Sauron. Geez- much as she hated everything that had anything to do with the Hell-God, she had to admit that at least her head minion, Dreg, had a cool name. And then there was the Mayor's Mr. Trick...  
  
Dawn was pulled out of her reverie as Aragorn stared the dark ambassador down. After a minute, the ambassador had a bundle brought forward, out of which he pulled a three items. First came Sam's short sword, second a grey cloak with an elven-brooch, and last of all, a tiny coat of Mithril. Pippin sprang forward with a cry of grief.  
  
"Silence!" ordered Gandalf, but the Messenger laughed.  
  
"Well, it is plain that this brat at least has seen these tokens before, and it would be vain for you to deny them now."  
  
Gandalf and the Mouth of Sauron argued back and forth over Frodo and Sam's belongings, and the Messenger laid out Sauron's terms. They were to become his slaves, for the most part, in exchange for the captured Hobbit. By now all the captains had realised that the enemy had discovered only one of the Hobbits, Frodo it would seem from the Mithril coat, and that he had been assumed a spy, not the Ringbearer.  
  
Gandalf rejected the terms, and snatched away the Hobbits' belongings. The Mouth of Sauron fled back to the tower, his guards blowing horns as they went. In the blink of an eye, the captains found themselves, and their armies surrounded in a ring of enemies ten times greater than themselves.  
  
"Oh crap," moaned the lone female voice on the battlefield.  
  
"I agree," returned Elrohir and Elladan as one.  
  
Aragorn had little time to order his battle, but he managed to do so. He stood on one of two hills, with Gandalf by the hastily raised Gondorian banner. Opposite them he sent Eomer's men, their hill containing the banners of Rohan and Dol Amroth. Elladan and Elrohir he sent with Imrahil to the front lines, facing the first assault, which would come from the gates of Mordor. They led the remainder of the Dunedain, and the men of the Tower of Guard. Dawn stood by them.  
  
Suddenly, the Nazgul came swooping over and all hope was quenched.  
  
The small voice of Pippin could be heard lamenting, "I wish Merry was here."  
  
But then nothing else could be heard above the clash of metal upon metal. Hill-trolls from Gorgoroth came bearing down upon them, and Pippin found himself alone facing one of the beasts. He stabbed upwards, and the creature, its vitals pierced, thundered down on top of him.  
  
Vaguely, voices could be heard crying: "The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!"  
  
The Eagles came, and the large, mighty birds chased the Nazgul off. Somehow, they all felt hope returning to them as they fought. And a little ways off, Mount Doom began to shudder and shake. All their enemy seemed to quail, as if they had lost their will, and became easy prey for the army of the West.  
  
A great shadow rose up from the tower and engulfed them all, but was taken away, disippating in the wind.  
  
Aragorn spared a second to exchange a hopeful glance with Dawn across the sea of bodies separating them. "Sam," he guessed.  
  
"Frodo," Dawn replied, daring to hope for her burdoned friend.  
  
They shrugged, having no time for speculation at the present, and turned back to watch their foes scattering like dust on the wind.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dawn looked around her. Everything seemed so bleak, so grey. But it was over. Whatever the cost, they had won. And they had survived. She scanned the battlefield, looking for her companions. Aragorn, Eomer... Gandalf she had seen taking off on the back of a massive eagle called Gwaihir to rescue Frodo and Sam from the volcano's depths. Elladan and Elrohir... she let out an involuntary sigh of relief when she spotted Legolas. She scanned more furiously- where were Gimli and Pippin?  
  
Finally, she saw them. Gimli had just pulled the Hobbit out from underneath a huge troll, and it was obvious that the beast had been slain by the tiny Pippin. They both seemed ok. It was eerily quiet. A sudden impulse came to Dawn, and without thinking twice, she acted upon it. She began to sing.  
  
"/Where do we go from here?/"  
  
Everybody close enough to hear her turned their heads to stare. Dawn ignored them all and continued.  
  
"/Where do we go from here?  
The battle's done, and we kinda won,  
So we sound our victory cheer.  
But where do we go from here?  
Why is the path unclear,  
When we know home is near?  
Understand we'll go hand in hand  
But we'll walk alone in fear, tell me,  
Where do we go from here?  
When does the end appear?  
When do they trumpets cheer?  
The curtains close on a kiss, God knows  
We can tell the end is near,  
But where do we go from here?/"  
  
When she had finished, Dawn looked up. Everyone looked sombre and Pippin was actually crying. She cringed inwardly. She hadn't meant to cause a scene and hurt everybody's feelings, she just felt like singing that song. It always seemed so appropriate.  
  
She knelt down beside Pippin and gave him a gentle hug. She looked up into Aragorn's eyes, surprised to find tears shining in those grey depths, too. Then Dawn noticed that her own cheeks were wet with tears. She released Pippin and stood up, allowing her brother to gather her up in his arms.  
  
She sniffled and kissed his cheek. "All hail King Estel," she joked softly.  
  
Standing near enough to hear, Elladan and Elrohir chuckled quietly at Dawn.  
  
* * * * *  
  
They took their time marching back to Minas Tirith. For several days the majority of the host, including all four Hobbits (Sam and Frodo having been rescued from Mount Doom and Merry having been sent for from the city) camped in the fields of Cormallen. The rest spent nearly a week riding deep into Mordor to destroy all the fortresses there.  
  
Finally, though, they made their way back to Minas Tirith, to Aragorn's crowning. The gates were broken, but heavily guarded, and in front of them stood the Steward of Gondor, now fully healed, with the White Lady of Rohan by his side. A great crowd of people had gathered all around them.  
  
In a loud, clear voice, Faramir presented Aragorn to the people, and asked them if he should now enter the city and become their King.  
  
The answer was a resounding, "Yea!"  
  
Faramir took the crown and gave it to Aragorn, who insisted that Frodo bring it to him so he could be crowned by Gandalf.  
  
Dawn stared up at Aragorn, wonder shining in her eyes.  
  
Faramir cried out, "Behold the King!" and the reign of Elessar began in a flurry of excitement which lasted the next several days.  
  
Dawn grinned to herself. Almost from the moment he had been crowned, Aragorn began to spoil her. He put the Fellowship together in a large house right by the castle, but he insisted that his 'sister', as she quickly became known as to the citizens of Minas Tirith, have a room near his inside the castle.  
  
He had many dresses made for her, including one very elaborate gown which he cryptically suggested she would need very soon. For the most part, Dawn was happy, spending a lot of time with Eowyn and Eomer, and also with the Hobbits. Elladan and Elrohir had left a few days after the coronation, but had promised they would return soon.  
  
But every time she caught sight of Legolas, whose fair Elven features easily set him apart from the crowds of humans, a cloud passed over Dawn's eyes. Naturally, she tried to hide her pain, which mostly involved disappearing whenever the Elf came within a hundred yards of her. But there were times when she could not escape him. Either by accident or on purpose, Aragorn had seated the pair directly across form one another at meals, so Dawn was often quiet, keeping her head down and concentrating on playing with her food whilst the conversation swirled around her.  
  
She never noticed a pair of wizened eyes often resting on her, or the hand stroking a long white beard as its owner studied her, deep in thought.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: I think that part moved kinda swift, but it's not as if you didn't know they were gonna win anyway. R&R please (since I remembered my manners this time) ~Anoron 


	14. Chapter 14a: Trippin' Down Memory Lane

Legolas stared down at the bed. Dawn was sound asleep in her room in Minas Tirith. She looked young and innocent in her rest. Legolas stood at the side of the bed. He had no idea why he'd done it, but he'd snuck into her room long after the rest of the city had gone to sleep, just to see her.  
  
And considering she still wouldn't let him near her when she was awake, now had to be the time. He watched as her face suddenly hardened with anger. For a second he worried that she had woken and he had been discovered, but she tossed her head a little and Legolas realised she was dreaming.  
  
Gandalf stood outside Dawn's window unnoticed, watching the Elf watching the girl. He silently willed Legolas to reach out and touch her, a small smile creasing his features.  
  
As if propelled by some unseen force, Legolas found himself reaching down. He laid a hand on Dawn's forehead. Gandalf's smile deepened and he raised his staff a little.  
  
*Flash*  
  
Legolas blinked and looked around him. Wherever he was, it was like no place he'd ever seen before. It was an empty room, completely white, cold and sterile. At one end of the room was a door. He smiled. Dawn was next to him, dressed in strange clothing. She was wearing all black, leather pants and a tank top, and her hair hung in loose curls about her shoulders. He then looked down at himself, he too was wearing all black- simple leggings and a tunic.  
  
To the delight of both, Dawn smiled back at Legolas. For whatever reason, she didn't have to be angry with him here. He took her outstretched hand and they turned to the door, stepping through together.  
  
*Flash*  
  
Dawn grimaced to herself. Something told her this little dream trip of theirs would be a painful walk down memory lane. She and Legolas were standing in the Summers' backyard in the bushes. They were watching a fourteen year old girl in dark jeans and a green shirt with three quarter length sleeves climbing down the trellis. The girl turned around, and Legolas gasped.  
  
Dawn. Younger Dawn had turned and suppressed a squeal as she'd nearly run smack bang into one lurking vampire.  
  
"Ugh! Geez- lurk much," she squeaked.  
  
"Wasn't lurkin', I was standin' about, it's a whole different vibe," Spike responded with a scowl.  
  
As younger Dawn and Spike traded barbs back and forth, Legolas peered at her intently. It was amazing, he noted. In four years she had changed so little, and so much. One thing was definitely different, he noted. The skin of her left wrist was smooth and flawless. She had not been scarred yet... so she mustn't yet know she is the Key, he realised.  
  
"Wanna come steal some stuff?" younger Dawn asked the vampire nonchalantly.  
  
"Yeah, all right," Spike replied, just as coolly.  
  
They went to the Magic Box, Legolas in awe of everything around him. Dawn's world was amazing. She found Giles' notes and began to read through them. For the first time, eighteen year-old Dawn noticed, as did Legolas, that Spike had tried to pick up Olaf's troll hammer, and failed miserably. They giggled quietly to each other.  
  
Spike wandered over and took the book from younger Dawn. Older Dawn watched herself as she began to figure it out, what she was, remembering the crazy people, and the snake-like demon that had all reacted strangely to her.  
  
"... so they sent the Key to her in human form. In the form of a sister. Huh, I guess that's you, Nibblet."  
  
In four years, no, wait, nearly five, older Dawn realised with a start, she'd never forgotten those words. The instant her life had changed forever. She watched her younger self reacting, remembering the counfusion, and the pain. She felt Legolas take her hand and squeezed his fingers.  
  
They were in the Summers' kitchen. Younger Dawn was alone. In the background, they could all hear Buffy chattering with her friends about something called greeting card silence, which Legolas did not understand. He tuned them out, watching, transfixed, as younger Dawn pulled a knife from a drawer.  
  
The childlike figure ignored the tears streaming down her cheeks as she sliced the blade over her left wrist. The bright crimson blood oozed over her white skin and she watched it for a minute. She turned towards to sound of the voices.  
  
Older Dawn and Legolas followed. Tara was the first to notice younger Dawn. "Oh my God."  
  
Younger Dawn stood in the doorway, wrist bleeding, bloody knife held limply in her right hand. "Is this blood?" she asked. Her voice sounded far away, almost as if she was in a daze.  
  
"Oh, baby," Joyce breathed, rushing to her youngest daughter's side.  
  
Legolas regarded the woman who could only have been Dawn's mother warmly. He smiled to the young woman next to him. "She was beautiful," he murmured.  
  
"I know," older Dawn responded with a sad smile.  
  
"What did you do?" Buffy demanded, storming over, her eyes wide.  
  
"This is blood, isn't it?" younger Dawn asked. "It can't be me. I'm not a Key.... I'm not a *thing*."  
  
"Oh, sweetie, no. Wh-what is this all about?" Joyce stammered.  
  
"What am I? Am I real? Am I anything?" The girl pleaded with them for answers, breaking down in tears.  
  
Immediately, Joyce hugged her hard, rocking her back and forth in soothing motions. Older Dawn had to restrain herself from actually reaching out to try and touch her mother. Something told her that wouldn't work.  
  
They jumped forward in time a day. They were in a large, sterile building of some sort, Legolas noted. It smelled strange.  
  
"Hospital smell," Dawn commented absently as she watched her former self desparately asking questions to a crazy man. She now knew he was one of the Knights of Byzantium.  
  
"Please? What am I?" younger Dawn stammered.  
  
"Destroyer!" the insane Knight cried out, reaching for her in vain. "The Key is the link, the link must be severed. Such is the will of God."  
  
Younger Dawn fled the room, only to run into a young man with strange blue clothing on.  
  
"Ben," older Dawn breathed beside Legolas as the intern took younger Dawn into a locker room and made her hot chocolate.  
  
They stood off to the side as younger Dawn burst out in her confusion, telling Ben that she was the Key.  
  
Ben reacted badly, immediately going into a panic and insisting Dawn leave. Legolas understood why a moment later when the young man suddenly morphed into what looked like a young woman. But Legolas could feel the evil power emanating from the being in front of them.  
  
Glory changed into a red satin dress, twisted the neck of a security guard almost clean off and forced her captive into a more secluded room.  
  
Legolas watched the Hell-God interrogating younger Dawn and felt a twinge of pride when she used Glory's arrogance against her, tricking Glory into giving Dawn some of the information about her heritage as the Key in the clever guise of pretending to answer the other's questions.  
  
But all too soon Glory discovered the game. "I smell a fox in my henhouse! Has somebody been playing sugar and spice with Uncle Ben, trying to get a peek at Glory's unmentionables?"  
  
"No-" the young girl tried to protest, but was quickly interrupted by a ranting Hell-God.  
  
"Shh- I kinda wanna hear me talking right now. Me talking! And you know what I'm starting to think? I'm thinking that maybe you," - Dawn whimpred as Glory got in her face for a second- "don't have any idea where my Key is!"  
  
Younger Dawn let out a sigh of relief. She hadn't been discovered.  
  
But Glory wasn't finished. "Do you have any idea how annoying that is? Very irritating, irrational- know what I mean tiny snap dragon? Like bugs under my skin. Say.... I'm feeling a low...." Glory trailled off.  
  
"What's wrong with you?"  
  
Glory perked up again. "Hey! This doesn't have to be a complete waste of my precious time. I've been meaning to send the Slayer a message, and I could use a little pick-me-up. Two birds, one stone, and BOOM"- she clapped her hands together, almost taking the terrified girl's nose off- "You have yummy dead birds."  
  
Younger Dawn shrank away from Glory as Buffy burst in, Slayerettes in tow.  
  
"Hey, we were just talking about you," Glory crowed, as if she was pleased to see Buffy.  
  
"Conversation's over, Hell-Bitch," Buffy retorted. Younger Dawn sprinted past her to cower against the far wall.  
  
They watched as Buffy fought with Glory, with Spike, Giles and Xander all trying to help, but failing dismally.  
  
Glory had relieved Xander of the crowbar he had adopted as a weapon and pointed it at each of the Scoobies in turn. "Time to start the dyin'. Start with the whelp."  
  
She threw the sharp end of the crowbar at younger Dawn like a spear, but Buffy, crying her sister's name, dived in front of the terrified girl and took the blow just below her shoulder.  
  
"Is that the best you little crap-gnats could muster? Coz I gotta tell ya, so not impressed," Glory scoffed, advancing on Buffy.  
  
Then Willow and Tara threw some sort of magic dust over the Hell-God, and Willow clapped, loudly saying "Discede."  
  
Glory disappeared. Buffy scrambled over to younger Dawn.  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
"Why do you care?" she returned, her voice thick with tears and bitterness.  
  
"Because I love you. You're my sister!"  
  
"No I'm not," the bitter voice retorted.  
  
"Yes, you are," Buffy insisted. "It doesn't matter where you came from. Or- or how you got here, you are my sister. No way you could annoy me so much if you weren't," she joked lamely. She pressed her hand against her fresh wound, wincing from the pain.  
  
Buffy grabbed her younger sister's hand and indicated the blood oozing down it from where younger Dawn had cut herself. "Look- it's blood. It's Summers blood. It's just like mine."  
  
Legolas watched, fascinated, as the two sisters' hands pressed together, making them eternal blood sisters.  
  
*Flash*  
  
They were at school. Younger Dawn was walking past them with another girl. Her eyes were the tiniest bit red, Legolas could barely detect it, but she'd been crying only moments ago. A blond stopped them in the hall.  
  
"Hey Dawn. Howya doin? You ok?" the girl asked with fake concern in her voice.  
  
"I'm good, thanks for asking," younger Dawn replied coolly as she kept walking.  
  
"Bi-atch," both Dawns said together. Legolas smiled a little.  
  
They stood at the window and watched as younger Dawn and her friend went into an art class and began to draw.  
  
Older Dawn shook her head at the memory of her girlish nerves as a good looking young boy next to her turned and began to speak to her.  
  
Legolas unconcsciously put an arm about older Dawn's waist, as if to claim her from this young boy. Older Dawn shook her head and giggled as her friend held up a sign behind the boy, Kevin's back. In plain view of the window, it read 'he wants you'.  
  
Younger Dawn squealed under her breath for her friend to take the sign away. Legolas looked bemused. Older Dawn laughed and shrugged to her companion. It was funny now. "He wanted me," she said confidently.  
  
She sobered and bit her lip as she caught a flash of red from the corner of her eye. It wasn't like she would ever be able to forget what happened next. Buffy walked into the classroom, unnoticed by younger Dawn. She reached her sister and asked her to come with her. Younger Dawn followed reluctantly.  
  
"What's going on? Something's going on," younger Dawn said as they came out the door.  
  
"Can we please go outside?" Buffy asked.  
  
"No! Tell me what's going on," Dawn demanded loudly, drawing the attention of the other girls still in the hall, including the one whom Dawn had called a 'bi-atch' earlier.  
  
Buffy stammered a little, trying but failing to get Dawn to leave the building with her first.  
  
"Where's Mom?"  
  
"Mom.... had an accident," Buffy said softly. "Or... something went wrong... from the tumour."  
  
When Buffy finally said the two worst words Dawn had ever heard in her entire existence, "Mom's dead", the fourteen-year-old refused to accept them. Even as the tears weeled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, she crossed her arms and shook her head vigorously.  
  
"No, no, no, no. You're lying!" she screeched, oblivious to the attentions of everyone else in the hall, and the classroom she'd just left. "She's alive! She's not dead! You're lying!"  
  
Older Dawn leaned her head against Legolas' shoulder as her younger self collapsed in a heap on the ground. Buffy sank down beside her, on her knees, but could do nothing to ease her sister's pain. 


	15. Chapter 14b: Keep On Trippin' Together

A/N This chapter contains strong language & should not be read by anyone under 17. Ok! ~Anoron.  
  
*Flash*  
  
It was the night after Joyce's funeral. Younger Dawn was alone in the house, doing the resurrection spell Spike had helped her prepare for.  
  
Legolas looked at his companion curiously, but she just motioned for him to watch to figure out what was going on.  
  
Younger Dawn was just finishing up when Buffy walked in.  
  
"You have no idea what you're messing with. Who knows what you actually raised, what's gonna come through that door!"  
  
Younger Dawn teared up. "No I- I know. It'll be her," she insisted.  
  
Legolas gasped. The girl was trying to resurrect her mother! Older Dawn cringed inwardly and blushed. Not one of her finest moments. The sisters fought, and Legolas shook his head. This was no time for them to be acting this way, they needed each other.  
  
"I'm not like you, Buffy. I don't have anyone," the younger sister cried.  
  
Buffy stepped up to her. "What!? Of course you do. You have me."  
  
"No I don't."  
  
A sudden understanding dawned over Legolas. This was the crux of every argument Dawn had ever had with her sister: she could feel Buffy leaving her behind.  
  
Older Dawn was watching him with a smirk on her face. "Proverbial lightbulb much?"  
  
"You won't even look at me, it's so obvious you don't want me around," younger Dawn continued.  
  
"That's not true," Buffy tried to reason, but her words were not having their desired effect.  
  
"Yes it is," came the harsh reply. "Mom... died, and it's like you don't even care."  
  
"Of course I care. How can you even think that?" Buffy's voice shook as tears sprang into her eyes.  
  
"How can I not? You haven't even cried. You've just been running around like it's some big chore or something. Cleaning up after Mom's mess," younger Dawn spat out bitterly.  
  
A loud slap echoed throughout the house as Buffy struck younger Dawn. Immediately, the Slayer regretted her actions. Her eyes widened in shock and her hand flew to her mouth.  
  
"Oh! Dawn... I... I've been working... I've been busy, because I have to-" Buffy stammered.  
  
"No! You've been avoiding me."  
  
"I'm not! It's just... I... have to do these things... because, when I stop... then she's really gone."  
  
Both siblings were crying now.  
  
"And I'm trying, Dawn, I am, I am really trying to take care of things, but I don't even know what I'm doing. Mom always knew."  
  
"No-one's asking you to be Mom," younger Dawn choked out.  
  
"Well who's gonna be if I'm not!? Huh, Dawn? Have you even thought about that?" Buffy shot back. "Who's gonna make things better? Who's gonna take care of us?"  
  
"Buffy..." younger Dawn sniffled.  
  
"I didn't mean to push you away, I didn't. I just, I couldn't let you see me. Oh God, Dawny, I don't know what we're gonna do. I'm scared."  
  
Both older Dawn and Legolas were now looking past the sisters, staring intently at the window. The curtains were drawn, but through the pale material they could see a silhouetted figure walking slowly by.  
  
"Mom?" older Dawn breathed. On an impulse, she ran to the door, overcome with curiosity as to what she had actually raised that night. She tried to put her hand on the knob, but could not grasp it.  
  
She tried again a few times, until she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, pulling her away. Legolas drew back and sank down on the stairs, pulling Dawn into his lap.  
  
No sooner had Dawn settled into Legolas' embrace than a dead knocking came at the door.  
  
"Mommy?" Buffy breathed, childlike hope filling her voice.  
  
The Slayer ran to the door while her younger sister snatched up the photograph of Joyce that had been dropped on the coffee table during the argument. Older Dawn clutched at Legolas' hands as she watched her sister and her former self racing against each other.  
  
Younger Dawn won. Just as Buffy flung the front door open, younger Dawn found her courage and tore the photograph of her mother in half. Buffy stared out into the empty night, her heart breaking as younger Dawn approached her.  
  
"Dawn," she sobbed, turning from the doorway.  
  
"It's ok," younger Dawn comforted, wrapping Buffy up in a tight hug.  
  
The pair sank to their knees, mourning and clutching each other tightly.  
  
"It's ok."  
  
*Flash*  
  
They were in the Summers' living room again. Sixteen-year-old Dawn was sitting on the floor. Legolas looked puzzled. She was watching tiny people, much, much smaller than Hobbits, even, running around inside a strange box and speaking into a strange object.  
  
"Well... what channel are you on?" younger Dawn asked, frowning into the phone.  
  
Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated around them. Both Dawns and Legolas jumped, even though older Dawn knew it was coming. Still, this had been one of the most terrifying nights of her life, and almost three years between her and the memory couldn't change that. Younger Dawn started telling Kit about the sound over the phone as she muted the television and moved to the front door.  
  
The door blew open in gale force winds and younger Dawn struggled to close it. "Ah! Kit, is there a storm?" she asked.  
  
The television turned itself off mute. Younger Dawn hung up on Kit and stared at it. Legolas shuddered. He'd felt an evil presence seeping into the house.  
  
Younger Dawn tried to silence the television, then turn it off, but even when she pulled the cord from the outlet it remained on, getting louder and louder. The stereo in an adjacent cupboard began blaring, too, and the small radio in the kitchen joined in the noise.  
  
Grabbing an axe, younger Dawn smashed the television and the stereo. Legolas jumped, frightened by the sparks exploding from the electrical appliances. Older Dawn squeezed his hand reassuringly and they followed the younger girl into the kitchen. She was making her way to the radio when she noticed the microwave.  
  
"Oh no," she moaned, a split second before it blew up, sending shards of glass flying at her. The force of the explosion knocked her back a few steps, embedding glass in her feet.  
  
She recovered a little and was about to swing the axe at the radio when the music was interrupted by a strange frequency and a female voice.  
  
"Dawn?" Legolas heard the voice coming over the speakers and recognised it as belonging to Joyce Summers.  
  
Both Dawns froze a moment. Then younger Dawn grabbed the radio and took it into the living room with her. She was taping up the cuts on her feet and trying to call her sister.  
  
"Buffy, please, pick up the phone. I don't know what to do," she was begging. She gave up on reaching her sister after several rings and turned back to the radio.  
  
"Do it again! I heard you!' she yelled at it.  
  
The banging started again.  
  
"Once for yes, twice for no," younger Dawn breathed as the realisation swept over her. She repeated it louder, as a question.  
  
BANG  
  
"Mom?" younger Dawn asked hopefully. "Mommy? Is that you?"  
  
BANG  
  
Younger Dawn smiled with a sigh of relief. Legolas frowned. He still only felt the evil presence.  
  
"Mom? Are you ok?"  
  
BANG BANG  
  
Younger Dawn's face fell. She became frightened again. "Are you alone?" she asked in a small voice, dreading the answer.  
  
BANG BANG  
  
They watched, transfixed by the scene as the lights cut out and the house was plunged into darkness. Then the room was illuminated in an eerie red glow and five words were scrawled on the wall in dripping blood: 'Mother's milk is red today'.  
  
The house went dark again for a split second, and when the red light returned, all the wooden furniture just through the archway to the dining room was on the ceiling, upside down. Another second of darkness, and the furniture returned to normal. The evil presence was beginning to make Legolas feel physically ill. He clutched at his aching stomach and marvelled that niether version of Dawn, though both frightened, would quail beneath the darkness.  
  
By the tiniest glow of the street lamps outside, younger Dawn thought she could make out the image of her mother sprawled on the couch. With his Dawn clinging to his arm tightly, Legolas peered at the couch and gasped. His Elvish eyes could see much more clearly. It wasn't an image of Joyce, it was a corpse.  
  
"Mom, I see you," came the shaky voice. "I'm coming towards you, ok?" The girl was inching forward, about to reach out and touch what she thought was her mother.  
  
Suddenly, with a flash of light, a demon was over Joyce's body, silencing her. Younger Dawn found herself thrown back, though she tried desparately to reach her mother and free her. The demon was growling at her to leave. She refused.  
  
"No. She's my mother, and she needs to talk to me. I'm not leaving," she said, her voice shaking with both fear and anger. Making up her mind, younger Dawn set to work to cast the demon out. Angered, the demon started causing everything in the room, including the windows, to smash. Even though he knew they could come to no harm here, Legolas pressed his back against the wall, as far out of the way as possible, drawing his Dawn into his arms as they watched the scene.  
  
The demon growled at the spellcaster, and pushed her around, throwing her back against the wall. It slashed her cheek, drawing blood. But younger Dawn was determined. She finally managed to cast the demon out.  
  
As it was blown out of the house, younger Dawn shrieked, "That's right! Die you bastard!" The wreck of a house was quiet once more.  
  
Younger Dawn fell face down on the ground, exhausted by her spell. She felt an etherial, warm light pulsing in the room and slowly looked up. Legolas and older Dawn pushed themselves away from the wall, staring towards the light with wonder.  
  
It was Joyce. Legolas smiled. The light was so pure it seemed. So beautiful.  
  
"Mom?" Both Dawns breathed. Older Dawn had never really figured out if this had been an apparition of her mother. Even when it became apparent that the First had surfaced, and was playing mind games with them, and Willow had told her about her own conversations with dead people that night, Dawn had never given up hope that her mother had been there to warn her. And, when she thought about it, Buffy had turned her back on Dawn when she'd died. She still couldn't be sure though. It wasn't like Buffy had offed herself or anything ridiculous like that, but she'd still left Dawn behind.  
  
Legolas' smile all of a sudden faltered. He could see through the light. It was a facade. The pain returned to him so sharply that he gasped, again clutching at his stomach and doubling over. Older Dawn looked at him, worried, and helped him straighten. She slipped her arms about his waist to support him.  
  
Joyce's image was speaking. "Things are coming, Dawn. Listen, things are on their way. I love you, and I love Buffy. But she won't be there for you."  
  
"What? Why are you...?" younger Dawn stammered.  
  
"When it's bad, Buffy won't choose you. She'll be against you." With that, the light, and the image faded. Legolas was able to stand by himself once more.  
  
Younger Dawn was screaming, "No! No! Don't go! Please don't go!"  
  
"No," she whimpered, breaking down into helpless sobs as she was left alone once again.  
  
Older Dawn covered her mouth with her hand, remembering how much it had hurt when her mother had left her alone. Again. Legolas kissed the top of her head, hearing her voice murmur, "She left me."  
  
He pulled her back to their eyes were level. "Dawn... that wasn't her," he said softly, but confidently.  
  
A tear rolled down the smooth cheek. "Well, I always wanted to know... now I do," she attempted a brave smile.  
  
"I am sorry, melamin."  
  
*Flash*  
  
The tower. Older Dawn actually groaned. "Why does my death keep coming back to haunt me?" she muttered.  
  
Beside her, Legolas was frozen on the spot. He could see her, younger Dawn was tied to the edge of a platform, but she was now not so young. She looked exactly the same as she had the day she'd arrived in Middle-Earth. Exacty the same as the woman standing next to him. He recognised the dress that now not so much younger Dawn was wearing as the one she'd been wearing at their first meeting. Legolas sucked his breath in with a sharp hiss when he realised what this memory of Dawn's was. Her death.  
  
A strange looking demon with a tail, Doc, was standing in front of the Dawn tied to the platform. She was helpless as he raised his kinfe and began making long, shallow cuts into Dawn's skin. She started to cry, more from the knowledge of what her blood was about to cause than from the pain. She was alone. Spike had come up the tower, he'd tried to save her, but he'd been defeated. She could see him sprawled on the ground so far away, unconscious.  
  
Legolas fumed. His Dawn had to physically restrain him from trying to take Doc out himself. "Won't do any good," she reminded him softly. They were just observers here.  
  
They heard a noise behind them, and stepped as far to the side as they could to allow Buffy to pass, not that she would've bumped into them anyway, they were only corporial to each other here. The Slayer stormed past, not giving Doc a second glance as she shoved him from the tower, one- handed. Legolas felt a small twinge of satisfaction as he heard the demon's screams before a dull thud echoed up to them.  
  
Buffy was at her sister's side, yanking the bonds from her wrists and pulling her from the edge. But it was too late. Older Dawn and Legolas watched as a drop of blood trickled through the grated floor of the platform. It hit a certain point in mid-air, and an unearthly blue light glowed, accompanied by a sickening rip in the air.  
  
The sisters stood side by side, watching. They were both crying silently.  
  
Dawn softly spoke. "I understand so clearly now."  
  
Buffy looked at her, sniffling. "What?"  
  
"That it had to come to this- it's supposed to end this way."  
  
"What way? The end of the world!?" Buffy burst out.  
  
Dawn's voice was still calm and soft, her eyes staring straight ahead. "No. Not the end of the world."  
  
It suddenly dawned on the twenty-four year old what her younger sister was saying. "Dawny, no! I won't let you!"  
  
Legolas felt tears sliding silently down his cheeks.  
  
Finally Dawn turned to Buffy. "This is the way it was meant to be." Buffy was shaking her head, but Dawn continued anyway. "I don't belong here, Buffy. I never belonged, even when you made me feel like I did. But I have to go now. I'll miss you, and I will always love you. Thank you for being my sister. But we both have our own paths to take now. You'll find your way, and so will I. Goodbye, Buffy."  
  
With a final kiss to her sister's cheek, Dawn turned and took a running dive from the tower's platform.  
  
"No!" Legolas burst out, wishing he could stop her. The logical part of his mind knew that she was ok- she'd drop into Middle-Earth, into his world and his heart. But she shouldn't have had to go through this, any of it. She was young and beautiful and sweet and she had deserved so much more from her life than it had given her. But still, she kept fighting. He knew she always would, like it was all she had. Like her sister. It hit him then, exactly how wrong he had been at Helm's Deep, what he had taken away from her. He hung his head in shame.  
  
"Dawny," Buffy choked out in a whisper before crumpling in a heap, her body wracked with sobs.  
  
Older Dawn, the only one left on the platform now, was crying too. She wished she could talk to Buffy, touch her, comfort her and tell her she was ok. She noticed Legolas, still beside her. His chin was so low it was almost resting on his chest and he was crying. She hugged him tight and felt him lock his arms around her.  
  
*Flash*  
  
With a final smile, Gandalf disappeared from outside Dawn's window. He'd done his best. Legolas looked around, blinking through the tears streaming down his face. They were back in Minas Tirith, he was standing with his hand less than a centimetre from Dawn's forehead. It seemed as if no time had passed here at all, while he had gone through Dawn's dreams, her memories with her.  
  
He pulled away from Dawn, who hadn't stirred in the slightest, and silently climbed out the window. He had a lot of thinking to do. Outside, he leaned back against the stone wall of the castle for support and closed his eyes. Dawn had told him and Aragorn of many of the things he'd just seen, finding out she was the Key, the loss of her mother, facing the First, her own death, but to actually see it first hand, to be there and feel it and live it... Legolas shook his head, swiping at his wet cheeks. He would never understand how she survived her first life as long as she had, and how she had the will to continue fighting here.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dusk settled over Minas Tirith. Dawn wandered high on the mountain above the city. She walked along the banks of a stream which burbled gently as it meandered down the hill. She was deep in thought, wondering what she was supposed to do with herself, now that the War of the Ring had been won. She guessed she would stay in Minas Tirith with Aragorn, but she didn't know what was really supposed to happen. Was she still an agent of the PTB? Or was she free to make her own destiny now? She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she failed to hear light footsteps approaching. A hand rested on her shoulder.  
  
With a girlish yelp, Dawn spun to face the intruder. Her gaze instantly hardened when she found herself face to face with Legolas.  
  
Legolas watched sadly as she instinctively took a step away from him, glaring. He had to make her listen somehow.  
  
"Dawn... please listen to me," his deep blue eyes were as pleading as his voice.  
  
Dawn forced herself to remain stony, praying her eyes did not give away her longing for the Elf. Since he'd been in her dreams the night before, and she had been able to forget her anger with him and touch him, she'd found the ever-present yearning for Legolas had become almost unbearable. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked an eyebrow.  
  
Legolas almost smiled. This was progress- she hadn't walked out on him at once, or skipped straight into abusing him. He took a deep breath and readied himself.  
  
"I am sorry I hurt you."  
  
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her eyes told him to talk fast. So intent they were on each other that neither Dawn nor Legolas noticed the approach of another Elf, rounding a bend in the streamside path. A King of Elves. Thranduil stopped a short distance away from his son and the young mortal woman, who was really little more than a girl at a glance. Glad as he was to see his son, he instantly realised this was a very private moment and he should not interrupt. But Thranduil could not tear himself away, his curiosity over the girl and what the Prince had to do with her overwhelming him.  
  
"I know I hurt you- betrayed you. But you have to believe I thought I was protecting you," Legolas saw that familiar green fire flash through her eyes and grimaced.  
  
"It was wrong. I was wrong. It was the worst thing I could possibly have done to you and I can see that now. Dawn, I am so sorry."  
  
The Elf broke off, unsure of what to do now. He could see she was thinking his words over, her eyes averted so he couldn't read them. But he knew she wasn't convinced yet. He decided to pull out all the stops and tell her the truth.  
  
"I love you."  
  
That got her attention. Dawn's eyes snapped up, locking onto his gaze. Emotions flowed through her so fast she did not even know how to identify them.  
  
"Fuck you, Legolas," she hissed. "Fuck you."  
  
He grimaced. He wasn't exactly sure what the words meant, but from her tone he was pretty sure he could guess. Blinking back tears he turned to leave, knowing he had lost her forever. His vision was a watery blur, so he did not notice his father taking cautious steps backwards to conceal himself from their view. Legolas had taken about three steps from the woman he loved when he heard her sigh behind him.  
  
"I love you, Legolas," she admitted reluctantly.  
  
Legolas flew back to her side. He fought the urge to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go. She was still upset, and he knew she had a lot left to say to him.  
  
Dawn stared at Legolas. For so long now she had kept all her anger, pain and love bottled up and now it seemed this was her only chance to let it out. The Fellowship was preparing to break for the last time, they would most likely never all be together again. He'd laid his cards on the table, if she didn't do the same right now, she was terrified that he wouldn't be there when she was ready. God it was painful though.  
  
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes to match his. "It makes me sick, what you did to me. But it makes me sicker every time you look at me..." a sob broke out from her. Dawn's shoulders began to shake but she forced herself to choke the rest of her words out.  
  
"Cause I love you so damn badly that I hate you."  
  
Legolas froze. He wasn't expecting this, he didn't know what to say. The urge to hold Dawn, just like he'd held her on that night in Edoras, their night, was becoming unbearable. But he could do nothing but clench his fists by his sides.  
  
Dawn was breaking down, letting it all go at last. "I hate you so much, Legolas," she sobbed. "I need you! Why don't you ever just reach out and touch me-?"  
  
Dawn didn't have the chance to say any more. She didn't need to. Lightning fast, Legolas reached out his long arms and pulled Dawn into him, cradling her against his body. He kissed the top of her head, and when she turned her face up to him, he kissed her forehead, then her eyes. He kissed her tears away, trailing his lips down her face until they met with hers.  
  
Thranduil sighed, watching their kiss deepen. He was more confused than ever, but he knew one thing was clear- his son's heart was lost to a woman, a mortal who was barely more than a child. But he sensed something deep and mystical running through the girl... Dawn, Legolas had called her. Perhaps Legolas was just drawn to her energy. The King almost prayed it was so, the thought of his only child bound to embracing mortal death was unbearable. He turned and left the lovers, who never even knew he had been there.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: 2 part chapter, because it was just WAY too long to fit in one... even for me, I have a tendency to cram as much as humanly possible in each chapter! Hope the multiple Dawns didn't confuse you, coz I have to admit they actually confused me at times! As always, asking for you to R&R ~Anoron. 


	16. Chapter 15: Wine and Weddings

"You seem much happier," Aragorn commented to Dawn later that evening. He was escorting her back to her room after dinner, shaking his head as the girl bounced along beside him, full of the youthful energy he hadn't seen in her in far too long.  
  
She grinned and giggled all at once. "I made up with Legolas."  
  
"Really?" returned Aragorn, fake surprise in his voice. Even the blind would have seen the way Dawn and Legolas had been smiling dreamily at each other all through dinner. His father had come, and even though they had not seen each other for a year, Legolas could barely concentrate on a word Thranduil was saying.  
  
Dawn noticed his smirk and swatted his arm playfully. "Ok, big brother, we both know why I'm in such a good mood, but what's your excuse?"  
  
They were now outside Dawn's door and Aragorn turned to face her. He could not hide the excitement shining in his eyes. "Arwen will arrive, two nights from now. Which means in three days we will be wed."  
  
Dawn shrieked. Then screamed. Then squealed. She launched herself into an incredibly shocked and confused Aragorn's arms for a hug.  
  
"Oh my God! Estel! I'm so happy for you! Congratulations! Oh wow!" she exploded, practically dancing on the spot with excitement.  
  
Aragorn just beamed back at her, partly from quiet contentment, partly from fear of the velocity of the young woman's mood.  
  
The next two days were a whirlwind of activity. Dawn took it upon herself to help Aragorn with the last minute preparations to make sure he had the wedding she thought he deserved. Luckily, she had had a little bit of experience with organising weddings, but she was convinced this one would go a lot more smoothly than Xander and Anya's not-a-wedding.  
  
She set to work overseeing the reception immediately, sending Legolas to spend some time catching up with his father, whom Dawn had met at dinner on Thranduil's first night in Minas Tirith. Whenever they could, though, they found a secluded corner of the city in which to share a few private moments, and Legolas found he was not above climbing in Dawn's window late at night after everyone else was asleep.  
  
Finally, as it was growing late two nights after Aragorn had spoken to Dawn, lanterns could be spotted glimmering across Pelennor Fields. Aragorn stood before the rebuilt gates, Dawn by his side. Both wore the cloaks Galadriel had given them in Lothlorien.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir led the long procession, which included the Lothlorien Elves, with Celeborn and Galadriel, and the house of Elrond. Elrond himself came last, Arwen by his side.  
  
They reached the King waiting to receive them. Dawn had to concentrate hard just to keep her jaw from dropping at the sight of Arwen. She was beyond amazingly beautiful. Aragorn had told her once that Arwen Undomiel meant 'Lady Evenstar', and Dawn could easily see why Arwen was considered the Evenstar of her people.  
  
Aragorn greeted his guests warmly, introducing those who had not met her before to his 'sister' Dawn, and ushered them into the dining hall for a late supper with the other guests of Minas Tirith.  
  
Dawn readily offered her usual seat at Aragorn's side to Arwen, instead opting to sit further down the table where she could catch up with the twins, and talk to the Hobbits, Eomer, Eowyn and Faramir. She caught Aragorn's grateful smile and returned it with a wink before each turned their attention back to the conversations surrounding them.  
  
"So that is the famous Lady Dawn Summers who captured your brotherly affection?" Arwen murmured to her betrothed as she watched the young woman chatting happily with her friends. "My brothers, Elrohir in particular, spoke very warmly of her. Elladan seemed a little more reserved, apart from her success in battle, all he would mention was some tripping incident at Dunharrow."  
  
Aragorn chuckled at the memory. "Yes, that is Dawny. You shall like her, Arwen, I am sure of it."  
  
"She seems sweet, yet undeniably strong. And Legolas cannot tear his gaze from her. I am sure I will like her too, Aragorn." Their eyes met and they smiled.  
  
At length, everyone made their way to their rooms to rest. Tomorrow would be a long day. Nobody seemed to notice that Legolas had not returned to the Fellowship's house with the others.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A hand clamped down on Legolas' shoulder. He whirled and found himself face to face with Aragorn. The wedding ceremony of Aragorn and Arwen had gone smoothly that morning and the King looked deliriously happy with his Queen by his side.  
"Legolas, my friend," Aragorn began.  
"Aragorn, Arwen," he smiled back at them. Arwen gave both him and Dawn a big smile in return.  
  
Arwen turned to Dawn. "My husband tells me I have you to thank for much of this celebration, Dawn."  
  
Dawn blushed a little and shrugged. "It was no biggie, Arwen. I wanted to help, really. I mean, Estel's family to me and I'm just so happy for you guys, I wanted to give you some kind of gift."  
  
Arwen's soft smile was completely sincere. "Then we thank you, Dawn. Your gift is perfect."  
  
"Well, unless you intend to steal her away all for yourself this evening, might I have a dance with my sister?" Aragorn asked Legolas after a moment, breaking into the comfortable silence, his grey eyes twinkling merrily at Dawn.  
  
Legolas laughed and looked down at the woman by his side. She was staring back up at him, her green eyes so full of love and happiness, that he couldn't resist leaning down to give her a quick kiss. To Aragorn he replied, "Indeed I do intend to steal her away all for myself, but one evening will not do. I am planning on an eternity. And with time so easily on my side, I cannot begrudge Dawn a few moments of her time with her favourite brother, if that is indeed her will."  
  
"Indeed it is!" Dawn announced, grabbing Aragorn's hand and dragging him eagerly towards the dancefloor. With a final wave at the Elves left behind, the pair made their way to the centre of the floor, where Aragorn began to dance Dawn about happily.  
  
Legolas and Arwen stood side by side, watching their significant others. Each had a soft smile on their face, enjoying the sibling affection between the humans as they danced. They were talking and laughing, but neither Arwen or Legolas could her what was being said. They did not notice another Elf approaching them from behind.  
  
Legolas sighed. "I'm going to marry that woman," he declared quietly.  
  
Just behind them, Thranduil stopped dead in his tracks. He had come over to speak with his son, once Aragorn had taken the energetic mortal girl, Dawn Summers, whom he had spoken with once or twice, away to dance, when he'd heard Legolas' announcement to Arwen.  
  
Arwen looked at her old friend, delighted. "You have proposed to Dawn? And she has accepted you?"  
  
Legolas smiled sheepishly. "Well, no. Not yet. But I will. And she will. I feel it, with every fibre of my being, Arwen."  
  
"San amin estela ten'lle a'caela ilya i'alassea' amin'oio sinte," Arwen replied.   
  
An understanding passed between the pair, and they had no need for further words. Their eyes wandered back to the dancefloor. Aragorn and Dawn had been dancing together for quite a while now.  
  
"Shall we go and cut in on them?" Arwen asked innocently.  
  
"You read my mind," Legolas replied, offering her his arm.  
  
Thranduil watched them go. His heart was heavy, and he suddenly knew every pain Elrond had ever felt in relation to his daughter's love for Aragorn.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"What have you been doing to Eomer this evening, Dawn? I have never seen a man more uncomfortable in my life," Aragorn asked as he twirled Dawn around. "If I did not know better, I would say he is afraid of you. And that is unheard of from a King of the 'Mark."  
  
Dawn widened her eyes to give him her best innocent look as she settled in his arms once more. "Nothing, Estel."  
  
"You are a terrible liar, Dawny."  
  
"Really? I never used to get caught in Sunnydale."  
  
Aragorn laughed at her. "Stop stalling and answer the question."  
  
"Well, if you must know, I was trying to set him up."  
  
"Set him up? Why would you betray your friend?" Aragorn asked, concerned at what she had been up to.  
  
She laughed and whacked him playfully on the arm when she realised what he was thinking. "No, dumbass! Not set up as in betrayal set up, I was trying to get him together with Princess Lothiriel. You can tell they're so hot for each other!"  
  
"Then with your meddling ways, may Valar help them!" Aragorn was still laughing when Legolas and Arwen danced over to them.  
  
"May I cut in?" Legolas asked smoothly in Aragorn's ear.  
  
They switched partners, Dawn watching Aragorn and Arwen as they moved in perfect synch, with a dreamy, almost wistful smile. She looked up at Legolas with the same dreamy look in her eyes.  
  
"Marry me?" he said simply.  
  
"Yes," she returned without a moment's hesitation.  
  
Ignoring the roomful of people surrounding them, Legolas pulled Dawn close up against his chest and kissed her deeply.  
  
A firm hand clamping down on Legolas' shoulder interrupted the pair.  
  
"Get lost, Estel," Dawn moaned against Legolas' lips, before the pair resumed making out in the centre of the room.  
  
The intruder cleared his throat loudly. It was not Aragorn. Once they realised this, Legolas and Dawn broke apart guiltily.  
  
"Atar," Legolas greeted his father.  
  
Dawn just smiled nervously at Thranduil. He did not look impressed.  
  
"I would have a word with the two of you," Thranduil stated in a low voice. It was not an invitation, or a request. It was a command.  
  
They followed the Mirkwood King to a secluded corner of the large room, just beyond the refreshment tables. Thranduil was glaring daggers at Dawn, who fidgeted and looked about her for any chance of escape. She did not see a nearby exit, but she did spot something useful on the closest table and reached out a hand to grasp at her last hope of survival.  
  
She snatched up the closest goblet of wine and downed its entire contents in one gulp. She looked back at Thranduil. He still looked ready to strangle her, only now confusion and a minute hint of amusement had crept into his blue-grey eyes.  
  
Dawn picked up another goblet, but before she had gotten it half way to her lips, Legolas confiscated it from her. The Prince looked from the now pouting Dawn to the still glowering Thranduil, then down to the wine. He skulled the lot.  
  
Thranduil let out a frustrated sigh. "Legolas, what do you think you're doing with this girl?"  
  
"I love her," Legolas responded candidly. "And I'm going to marry her."  
  
Dawn, meanwhile, had managed to procure and was now rapidly draining her second cup of wine. She nearly choked on it when Thranduil addressed her.  
  
"And you, young Lady? What have you to say for yourself? Why should I allow you to marry with the Prince of the Northern Mirkwood?"  
  
"Um... 'cause why not?" she tried. "Look, I love Legolas and he loves me, so what's the maxi-wig?"  
  
"You are not truly the sister of Aragorn, and are not of noble blood, for one thing," came the response after Thranduil finally worked out what on Middle-Earth 'maxi-wig' must mean.  
  
"Nope, but just one drop of my blood can destroy the universe," Dawn replied lightly. "That's gotta count for something, right?" She looked from father to son. She regarded the three quarters empty glass in her hand. "This stuff is good," she said, more to herself than anyone, taking another long drink. Again Legolas relieved her of her drink, but this time he was too late. It was empty.  
  
Thranduil thought over Dawn's words. One drop of her blood could destroy the universe? Was she speaking truthfully? Was this the energy that nearly every Elf who laid eyes on her could sense running deep within her? Was she drunk?  
  
"Y'know, I think I am," Dawn replied happily, making Thranduil realise he had spoken his last question aloud.  
  
He shook his head as he regarded Dawn. There was an innocence, and a youthful energy about her, but also a deep sense of power, and some form of wisdom, a knowledge she seemed to hold that no other being in this world could fathom. Experiences nobody else could ever understand. Except that Legolas seemed to understand her. And the combination of all these paradoxes ultimately made girl charming in her own strange way, but charming would not comfort his son after she eventually left him, as she must.  
  
"What future can you give my son?" he asked. "Have you yet thought of what would happen to Legolas in fifty or so years time, when you leave him?" Legolas immediately understood what his father was saying. He thought Dawn was mortal, that she would die soon and leave him with nothing but all-consuming grief to cling to.  
  
"Leave him? I would never leave him. Why am I leaving him? Where am I going?" Dawn retorted, alcohol clouding her senses.  
  
"When you die," Thranduil clarified as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Pfft- I'm not gonna die."  
  
"You cannot just *decide* you will not die simply because you do not wish to, little girl. You will live out a human life and die a mortal death in the blink of an Elvish eye, and Legolas will be left alone."  
  
Legolas could see the pain in his father's eyes as he spoke, and was grateful for the concern, unnecessary as it was.  
  
"Why would do that? I'm immortal- duh! Like, where the hell have you been? I'm special, ask Galadriel," Dawn boasted.  
  
Now utterly confused, Thranduil looked to his son for aid. Perhaps Legolas could make sense of the words which were haphazard enough without Dawn being well into her third drink of the last ten minutes.  
  
Legolas smiled, a small, soft smile, which lit up his eyes, making them bluer with his joy and when he nodded, his father knew he was telling the truth. She was immortal, and he did love her. More importantly, she loved him equally well.  
  
Thranduil finally smiled at his son and the woman he had chosen to spend eternity with. "San aa meneallie nauva calen ar malta." /Then may your ways be green and golden/  
  
"Hannon lle, Atar," responded Legolas softly.  
  
Just then, Merry and Pippin bounded up and began chattering away in their unassuming Hobbit manner. Eowyn and Faramir soon joined them. After a few minutes, Merry noticed that Dawn was not joining in their conversation. She appeared quite dazed and confused, her glassy stare fixed on her cup.  
  
"Dawn? Are you all right?" Merry asked.  
  
She eventually managed to focus on the Hobbit. In a confiding manner, she told him, "My wine tastes funny. I think I got one with alcohol in it."  
  
"Oh. That's... bad," Merry responded slowly whilst Pippin, Legolas and Eowyn doubled over with laughter. Thranduil just looked at Faramir. Faramir shrugged.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Are you ready?" Aragorn murmured to Dawn.  
  
Dawn nodded, a nervous but incredibly excited grin lighting up her face. They were standing outside the chapel of Minas Tirith, waiting for the wedding march to begin.  
  
"Here," Eowyn, Dawn's bridesmaid murmured, tucking a stray plait back into place. Arwen had spent hours that morning brushing, twisting and plaiting intricate patterns into the top parts of Dawn's hair, with the underside left in soft flowing waves about her shoulders.  
  
Fidgeting in her impatience, she smoothed down her sleek satin gown, girt with silver, for what seemed to Aragorn like the hundredth time in the last five minutes.  
  
"You look beautiful," he told her, pride and affection ringing through his quiet voice.  
  
At that moment, the band struck up the music and it was time to go. With one last squeeze of Dawn's hand, Eowyn turned and led the way down the aisle. Dawn took Aragorn's proffered arm and they made their way down the aisle towards the altar, where Legolas was waiting.  
  
Their eyes met over the short distance and each wore the same uncontrollable grin. Gimli, the best man, stood to the side of Legolas with the happiest look ever seen on the face of a Dwarf. Finally, they reached the altar and, after holding his friend's gaze for a long moment, Aragorn passed Dawn's hand into Legolas' and they were joined in marriage.  
  
Dawn's eyes lit up as Gimli produced the rings. They were the most beautiful pieces of jewellery she had ever seen. Gimli had wrought them out of mithril, and he and Galadriel had painstakingly etched them with intricate Elvish symbols of love and devotion. They had also been given the Lady of the Golden Wood's blessings.  
  
As the cool metal slid over her finger, Dawn felt a tiny tear of joy escape from the corner of her eye. She smiled and placed Legolas' ring on his finger. They heard the clapping of their friends and family gathered in the chapel when finally the minister pronounced their marriage for eternity. Legolas bent his head down and kissed Dawn, holding her like he would never let her go.  
  
When they finally separated, the reception could begin. Dawn had never felt so loved in all her life.  
  
"Are you happy, melamin?" Legolas asked as they danced their first dance as a married couple.  
  
"Totally," Dawn responded. "It's weird, y'know. I wish my Sunnydale family could be here, and I do miss them, but I'm ok. They're where they're supposed to be, and so am I. And I'm surrounded by family just the same, and I love them. I love you," she smiled, shuffling a little closer to him.  
  
"I love you too." Legolas planted a kiss on her forehead.  
  
"I believe it is my turn to dance with the most beautiful young woman in the room," Thranduil broke in with a smile. Dawn and Legolas turned to see Thranduil beside them, having danced over to them with Galadriel.  
  
Dawn allowed her father in-law to take her hand and lead her away. After a few minutes, the King spoke.  
  
"Welcome to the family, Dawn Summers."  
  
"Thank you. I will make him happy, you know," Dawn swore.  
  
He kissed her cheek, giving her all his blessings.  
  
Later, Dawn and Legolas found themselves standing by Galadriel, and Gimli was of course by his favourite Lady's side. Dawn and Legolas exchanged a look and then smiled at the others.  
  
"We have something to say," Dawn said quietly. Galadriel's lips quirked into a tiny smile. The visionary already knew what was coming.  
  
"My Lady, Gimli, we thank you for your generous gift to us," Legolas gestured to the mithril band on his finger.  
  
"They're prefect," his wife chimed in. "Really, I don't know how to tell you what this means to us..."  
  
Galadriel waved them into silence with her hand. "I think I speak for both myself and Gimli when I say the pleasure was ours. Honour them, and your love, and that will be our thanks."  
  
"Aye," said Gimli. "I love you both, if for nothing more than the pains you have caused me with your dramas these last months, and there is naught I would not do to ensure your happiness... and my sanity!"  
  
Dawn giggled as Legolas rolled his eyes at his Dwarven friend.  
  
"But I do not release you from your end of our bargain, Elf. You owe me a trip to the glittering caves."  
  
"Just as you owe me a walk beneath the eaves of the Fangorn, Gimli," Legolas replied.  
  
"And Dawn you promised you'd come to the Shire! You gave us your word and we have not forgotten, have we Merry?" Pippin cried as he and Merry joined the group.  
  
"I didn't forget either," Dawn shot back. "And I'll come for sure!"  
  
Dawn and Legolas shared a look. "Miles to go before we sleep?" he asked, realising that their promises to their friends meant time apart for them, and so soon after their union.  
  
"But just a few- minimal mileage," Dawn responded. She was finally feeling the full effects of immortality, and she knew she had all the time in the world with Legolas now. Her only fear was that most of her friends did not.  
  
As their small gathering broke apart to rejoin the festivities at large, Galadriel detained Dawn a moment to speak with her.  
  
Dawn sensed what this conversation was going to be about. "I've been meaning to ask you about this," she admitted. "The 'where do I go from here?' Was the War of the Ring the reason I was sent to Middle-Earth, and am I free now that it's done? Do you know?"  
  
Galadriel gave her one of her enigmatic smiles. "Yes, the War of the Ring was the primary reason the Higher Powers sent you to this realm, and for the most part your destiny is fulfilled, you are now free to choose your own. However, there is one task yet you have to accomplish here, Dawn. But as always, your path is dictated by your heart and mind."  
  
Dawn almost groaned. "Is this one of those 'fly by the seat of your pants 'cause you'll have to figure it out along the way' dealies? Buffy hated those kinds of prophecies... she used to mess 'em up all the time," she confided. She didn't bother to mention that Buffy usually altered them for the better, she knew that Galadriel already understood this.  
  
"You and your sister are not one and the same," the Elf Queen reminded her. "There are no mistakes when you follow the path as it is laid beneath your feet, only different courses to take."  
  
Dawn grinned. "Scenic route," she decided.  
  
* * * * * 


	17. Chapter 16: Abandonment Issues

All too soon it was time for them to leave Minas Tirith. They travelled first to Edoras to bury Theoden. The King and Queen of Gondor went as well, to pay their respects to the fallen King, and in support of the reigning King of Rohan.  
  
When Theoden was finally laid to rest, Merry cried long and hard over the loss of his friend. Pippin stood by his side, offering silent support as always. Afterwards, at the wake, Eomer announced the engagement of his sister, Eowyn, to the Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, Faramir.  
  
When she had a moment with Aragorn, Eowyn smiled up at the man she once believed she loved. "Wish me joy, my Lord."  
  
Aragorn smiled warmly back. "I have only ever wished thee joy, Lady."  
  
Dawn watched them happily from her seat beside Thranduil. Gimli had come over and demanded Legolas accompany him to mingle with the crowd in the room, the Dwarf not being overly comfortable with all the society swirling around him, leaving Dawn with her father in-law.  
  
"Now, Dawn, are you paying attention?" Thranduil asked in his best tutor's voice. The King had taken it upon himself to teach his land's new Princess about Elvish legend and lore, and the language.  
  
Dawn snapped back to attention. "Yessir," she quipped and launched into a rundown of all she had just learned. "The Valar, like that Elbereth chick are like the Gods of all things Elfy and the Undying Lands are where y'all go to rest when you've had enough of this place. Like suicide, only happier and with ships sailing from the Grey Havens. Are they really grey? Because grey is kind of depressing, though I guess it fits with the suicide theme.... without the happy...." she trailed off, having just spoken herself into confused circles, dragging Thranduil along with her.  
  
"Yes, that seems about right, my dear. I think," Thranduil eventually responded, drawing chuckles from Elrond and Gandalf across the table.  
  
"What?" Dawn whined at them in a pout. "What's so funny? Bunch of stuffy British Librarian types," she muttered to herself.  
  
"Nothing is funny," Thranduil assured her, sending an amused glance to his old friends, though his eyes were begging them to hold their composure for his sake. "You are doing very well, Dawn. Now, can you remember where I told you the spirits of Elves who were slain in battle went?" he asked, sounding so much like Giles that Dawn couldn't resist giving the first answer that popped into her head.  
  
She shrugged. "I dunno- Mexico?" she shot back, green eyes innocently widened and Thranduil knew the lesson was over.  
  
He sighed. "Perhaps we shall move on to language then. I want to teach you as much as possible while we are in the presence of so many who speak Elvish, so you may practise while you are away, ready for your coming to your new home." The King had spoken with an air of authority about him, and Dawn knew he meant business, but she could see the hint of excitement flickering in the cool blue-grey depths of his eyes as he spoke of her coming to Mirkwood. Legolas had whispered to her on the trip from Minas Tirith to Edoras that it was practically all his father spoke of now, and that he hadn't seen him so excited in decades.  
  
Before she knew it, Dawn found an entire class full of teachers and students had sprung up around her. The Elves, Gandalf and Aragorn had all began to toss in helpful suggestions and phrases to Thranduil's lesson, and just as Dawn was beginning to feel bombarded on all sides, a few interested beings drifted over to learn a thing or two. Soon the entire non-Elvish speaking population of the room was attentively listening and repeating the words and phrases being fired at them.  
  
In the midst of the hectic lesson, Legolas grasped Dawn's wrist and they slipped out of the room, unnoticed but for one pair of grey eyes, who's owner was smirking at the memory of his friend's disappearing act the last time they had visited Edoras.  
  
"This is much better than studying," Dawn murmured she and Legolas stumbled down the hallway towards their bedroom, more intent on each other than the path before them.  
  
"Mm-hmm," Legolas replied distractedly, with his attention focused on untangling the lace-up bodice of Dawn's gown. Dawn's hand fumbled for the doorknob and when she turned it, the pair crashed through the door together and it slammed behind them forcefully.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A depleted group rode on from Edoras to Isengard, where Gandalf and Aragorn wanted to see how Treebeard was doing with his prisoners. Arwen stayed behind, Faramir would escort her back to Gondor for Aragorn, and Eomer and Eowyn were already home. Thranduil was not continuing with the party, either. He rode out at the same time, but he headed towards Mirkwood to bring them the news that within a year their Prince would return, bringing his bride with him.  
  
When they reached Isengard, however, the tower of Orthanc was empty. Treebeard informed them that Saruman and Wormtongue had left a week earlier, but the tower had been locked tight, and the Ent handed the keys over to Aragorn, who now claimed Lordship over the slowly healing land.  
  
While the King and the Wizard walked around Isengard, inspecting it and praising the Ents for the work they had done to restore a sense of nature to the place after Saruman's fires of industry had almost destroyed it, Legolas drew Dawn aside.  
  
"So... guess this is it," she said quietly. The sadness emanated from her, and Legolas stroked her cheek in a soothing motion. He tried to keep his tone light for her sake, but his own heavy heart betrayed him.  
  
"Dawny, remember- minimal mileage," he told her, mimicking her phrase.  
  
Though a few stray tears had slipped out of the corner of her eye, Dawn smiled. "You've never done that before, called me Dawny."  
  
Legolas kissed her long and soft in response. When they broke apart, Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but Dawn beat him to it.  
  
"Mela lle, amin Taren." /Love you, my Prince/  
  
"Amin mela lle, Tarien. You've been practising," he laughed. /I love you, Princess/  
  
"Just a little."  
  
Each was reluctant to end the light conversation, knowing it would be the last time they would speak in months. The gentle but insistent clearing of a Dwarf's throat nearby informed them that the others were now waiting on them.  
  
They turned to Gimli who gave an apologetic look. "Legolas... it is time for us to go."  
  
"You will keep him out of trouble, right?" she looked pointedly at Gimli. "'Cause if I have to come out in the wilderness looking for the two of you in the middle of my Hobbit-holiday, there's gonna be Hell to pay. And I know of a law firm in LA who can give that a literal meaning," Dawn mock threatened. It wasn't as if she'd ever turn to Wolfram and Hart, who even when she had died were only just regrouping after the destruction the Beast wrought upon the evil firm.  
  
Gimli chuckled roughly to mask his confusion. Who in Middle-Earth knew what a law firm was? "Aye, I will keep him out of trouble Dawn. Why else would I agree to delve into the depths of the Fangorn Forest?"  
  
Dawn laughed, leaning in to give the Dwarf a hug. "Have fun Gimli. And take care of yourself, while you're at it, ok?"  
  
"That I will. Goodbye, Dawn." He stepped back to allow the couple one last chance to say their farewells.  
  
"I will meet you on the road, I think you will know when. I will miss you too much until then, melamin," Legolas swore.  
  
"I know. I'll miss you too. Love you," Dawn offered a teary smile. "See ya."  
  
Legolas smiled. "See ya," he echoed, knowing she enjoyed hearing him speak in her strange dialect of Westron, which she had once told Eowyn was a form of 'Valley-speak'. After another kiss which conveyed more emotion than either had been able to express with words, Legolas turned and bade farewell to his friends before following Gimli towards a thicket of trees.  
  
When Dawn turned away, Aragorn was just pulling out of an embrace with Elladan. Dawn frowned. He knew the two were foster brothers, but what reason did they have to be hugging right at this very moment?  
  
The King of Men made his way to where Dawn was standing, a little apart from the others, hastily wiping at the few tears that had trickled down her cheeks.  
  
"It is time for me to go, Seler'nin. I must return to Minas Tirith."  
  
"Right now? This very moment?" Dawn returned, half-whining, half- sarcastic.  
  
"Yes, 'tis growing late in the day," Aragorn explained, looking towards the sun and entirely missing the half-sarcastic spin of the words.  
  
"Wow," Dawn mused, letting her sarcasm reign, as she often did when in emotional turmoil. "My husband and my big brother leaving me all within the space of five minutes. Gee, it's a good thing I've never had abandonment issues- oh wait!- I have."  
  
"Dawny..." Aragorn murmured, wondering how to soothe her.  
  
Dawn shook her head, bringing her emotions and behaviour into check. "No, Estel, I'm sorry. I know you have lots to do now that you're a big important master of the universe," she offered a lopsided grin.  
  
"I do not want to be parted from you, little sister-"  
  
"Hey, don't you have a Kingdom to run, King-guy?" Dawn interrupted, motioning towards the road back in the direction they had come. She smiled and hugged him hard.  
  
It was several long moments before either was willing to let the other go. "Come and visit me soon," Aragorn whispered, realising with a start how much he would miss this mass of vibrant energy he had become so accustomed to having around.  
  
"You bet, Estel."  
  
With a quick kiss to his cheek, Dawn stepped back and let him go.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Six days after leaving Isengard, they came to the foot of the Misty Mountains, which they were to follow alongside of. Coming out into open country at sundown, they overtook an old man leaning on a staff. He was wearing rags that were either grey or dirty white, they couldn't tell which, and another beggar slouched and whined at his heels.  
  
"Well Saruman, where are you going?" said Gandalf, recognising the fallen Wizard. The others stood silent to watch the confrontation with interest.  
  
Saruman scowled at them. "What is that to you?" he answered. "Will you still order my comings and goings, and are you not content with my ruin?"  
  
Gandalf stared unfalteringly at Saruman. "You know the answers: no and no. But in any case the time of my labours now draws to an end, the King has now taken on the burden. If you had waited at Orthanc, you would have seen him, and he would have shown you wisdom and mercy."  
  
Again Saruman scowled. "All the more reason to have left sooner, and I am seeking a way out of his realm."  
  
"Then you're going the wrong way, but we offer you our help one more time. Will you scorn it?"  
  
The once leader of the Istari flicked his eyes towards Galadriel. "As for the Lady here, I do not trust her; she always hated me, and schemed for your part. I do not doubt that she has brought you this way to have the pleasure of gloating over my poverty. Had I been warned of your pursuit, I would have denied you the pleasure."  
  
"Saruman," Galadriel broke in, a hint of a patronising smile gracing her fair features. "We have other errands and other cares that seem to us more urgent than hunting for you. Say rather that you are overtaken by good fortune; for now you have a last chance."  
  
The barest smirk crossed Dawn's features at the way the Elven Queen condescendingly, but not snidely dismissed Saruman, and the Wizard-turned- beggar caught it. He turned to Dawn, eyes glittering as he once again marvelled at the power within her. Gone was the turmoil that had plagued her thoughts and feelings when he had failed to corrupt her at Orthanc, and in their place was an overwhelming sense of contentment and control.  
  
"Ah, insolent girl, we meet again. Disappointing it is that you have refused the offer of this kindly old man..."  
  
Dawn silenced him with a wave of her hand. It had been almost a week since both Legolas and Aragorn had parted ways with her and she was too busy missing them to even bother with this creep. "Uh, that's Princess Insolent Girl to you, Ass-clown, and I think I'm better off without the stinky rags and the greasy slimeball you've got at your feet. So why don't you shut up and..." she made a shooing gesture with her hand, "Before I have to sing again." She resisted the temptation to flip him off. She was a Princess now, she reminded herself, she could not go around giving the finger whenever she felt like it.  
  
Saruman glared at her thunderously for a minute, but when it became apparent that Dawn was not in the least intimidated, he turned back to Galadriel.  
  
"If this is truly the last chance you offer, I am glad, for I shall be spared the trouble of refusing it again," his tone turned threatening, but they all dismissed his words as idle. "You have doomed yourselves, and you know it. And it will afford me some comfort as I wander to think that you pulled down your own house when you destroyed mine."  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. Who did this guy think he was kidding? They watched as he turned and gave Grima a sound whack with his powerless staff. "Get up you idiot!" he shouted. "Turn about! If these fine folk are going our way, then we will take another. Get on, or I'll give you no crust for your supper!"  
  
Grima slouched past, whimpering how abused he was, and how he wished he could leave Saruman.  
  
"Then leave him!" Gandalf suggested.  
  
"Duh," chimed in Dawn.  
  
But Wormtongue was too terrified of Gandalf to do more than shoot him a glance out of his bleared eyes as he shuffled behind Saruman, who, having come to the Hobbits, stopped and stared at them, only to have four sets of eyes rest on him with pity.  
  
Saruman asked them for pipeweed, and Merry handed him what little he had left, considering it came from the flotsam of Isengard, in any event.  
  
"Mine, mine, yes and dearly bought!" cried Saruman upon hearing this. He clutched at Merry's leather pouch full of the weed. "This is only a repayment in token, for you took more, I'll be bound. Still, a beggar must be grateful if a thief returns to him even a morsel of his own. Well, it will serve you right when you come home, if you find things less good in the Southfarthing than you would like. Long may your land be short of Leaf!' he cursed.  
  
"Thank you," responded Merry. "In that case I will have my pouch back. Wrap the weed in a rag of your own."  
  
"One thief deserves another," Saruman sneered. He turned his back on Merry and kicked Wormtongue as they made their way away from the group.  
  
The Hobbits began discussing Saruman's words and threats, a sense of foreboding settling over them. They decided, after hearing Gandalf's affirmation that Saruman was indeed still capable of mischief, however small, that they should make for Rivendell to see Bilbo soon as may be, so they could get home that much quicker.  
  
Soon enough, Celeborn and Galadriel said their farewells, turning eastward to make their way into Lothlorien and not long after seeing the bright white flash of Galadriel holding up her ring Nenya from a distance as a final farewell, the rest of the dwindling travel party reached the deep valley where Rivendell was nestled safely.  
  
"There it is- the last Homely House, the House of Elrond," Elrohir told Dawn proudly.  
  
"Awesome," Dawn said, truly impressed with the beauty of Rivendell.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: Just a couple of chapters to go now, we're well and truly in the home stretch of this one! Hope you're still interested, R&R please. ~Anoron 


	18. Chapter 17: The Cheese Place

They spent a week or two in Rivendell, to rest. The Hobbits had much to talk of with Bilbo, and Elladan, who seemed to have finally gotten over the infamous tripping incident of Dunharrow, and Elrohir insisted on showing Dawn the entire land, from the Ford of Bruinen to the great Library. Her favourite feature of the Elven city became the waterfalls, and every day the twins had to lead her up a different concealed path so she could see more and more of the natural wonders which she found so fascinating.  
  
When they were finally on their way again, Gandalf went with them, claiming to want to see 'Old Butterbur' again. Just before they left, Elrond drew Frodo aside to give him a private word of advice.  
  
"I think, Frodo, that maybe you will not need to come back, unless you come very soon. For about this time of the year, when the leaves are gold before they fall, look for Bilbo in the woods of the Shire. I shall be with him."  
  
Frodo nodded, and the six remaining travellers finished saying their goodbyes to Elrond and his sons. The Hobbits were relieved to be on the road; it meant that at last they could turn their faces towards home. The going was slow at first, because of some disquiet or illness in Frodo which Dawn did not understand. The others grimly noted that it was the sixth of October, the same day a year before that Frodo had been stabbed in the shoulder with a Morgul blade.  
  
The next day, however, Frodo seemed completely recovered so they were able to pick up their pace and on one wet evening near the end of October, they came to the south gate of Bree, which Dawn seemed to find endless amusement in calling 'the cheese place'.  
  
After banging on the gate several times, the Gate-keeper shuffled out carrying a great cudgel. He looked at them with eyes full of fear and suspicion, but as soon as he saw it was Gandalf, with four Hobbits and a young Lady as his companions, he brightened up and let them in.  
  
When they walked past a house with tattered hedging and boarded windows, Pippin turned to Sam, asking, "Do you think you killed him with that apple, Sam?"  
  
"I'm not so hopeful, Mr. Pippin," said Sam. "But I'd like to know what became of that poor pony. He's been on my mind many a time, and the wolves howling and all."  
  
Dawn shot Merry a look, eyebrows raised. "What the...?" she asked.  
  
"I'll explain later," Merry yelled, straining to be heard over the rain as they came to the doors of the Inn, the Prancing Pony.  
  
Once again, Gandalf and the Hobbits were recognised easily, and with a minute or so of questioning who their Lady companion, dressed in a strange combination of Elvish clothing and the designs of Men, was, their horses and ponies were taken to the stables and they were hustled up into a private parlour and brought supper.  
  
After that, the Innkeeper, Butterbur, came to talk to them. They spoke a fair bit about what they had gone through, but most of it was far beyond his vision, so they silenced themselves and settled to hear his news of Bree's woes over the past year. Thieves had taken to attacking the land and waylaying the roads to the extent that they were barely used anymore, and nobody came to Bree. The Breelanders themselves locked their doors tight and refused to venture out in the darkness, which made Dawn send up a silent prayer that the wild men roaming around didn't actually have bumpy foreheads and fangs. As Butterbur spoke, Dawn began to recall Galadriel's words to her in Minas Tirith: /There is one task yet you have to accomplish here, Dawn. But as always, your path is dictated by your heart and mind/.  
  
Her help was needed around here, but she had a strong feeling that the place she would carry out her last task for the PTB would be the Shire. She was brought out of her thoughts by Pippin's surprised voice.  
  
"Well, no one troubled us and we came along slowly, and kept no watch. We thought we had left trouble behind us."  
  
"That you haven't, Master," Butterbur responded with remorse. "But it's no wonder they left you alone, the six of you are so well armed, and they wouldn't go for armed folk I don't think." He moved on to lament that the Rangers, who Dawn recognised as Aragorn's Dunedain, had gone away, and how they had not understood the protection the strange and feared folk had given Bree until they were missed.  
  
Gandalf gave him an encouraging smile. "Cheer up, Barliman! I am only glad you were not deeper in the very great troubles of late, and better times are coming. The Rangers have returned. And their is a king again, Barliman. He will soon be turning his mind this way, and then the Greenway will be opened again, and the evil things will be driven out."  
  
"So long as he lets Bree alone," said Barliman slowly, as all of the town's inhabitants had become distrustful of outsiders, and wanted them nowhere near their borders.  
  
"He will. He knows it and loves it."  
  
Butterbur became increasingly puzzled, until finally Sam took pity on him and ended the game which seemed to amuse the others so much. "He's Strider! The chief of the Rangers. Haven't you got that into your head yet?"  
  
When Sam's words finally sunk in, Butterbur was more amazed than they could even imagine. "Strider! Him with a crown and all and a golden cup! Well, what are we coming to?"  
  
"Better times, for Bree at any rate," said Gandalf. "The King will come, and already he sends two of his emissaries before him." At the questioning glance, the Wizard nodded first to Pippin, then to Dawn. "Peregrin Took is one of his Knights, and Dawn here shares something of a sibling relationship with the King Elessar."  
  
Upon hearing this, Butterbur became flustered. He stood and bowed to Dawn, babbling, "Humblest apologies, my Lady, I was not informed of your stature or I would have made more effort for your comfort, that is sure. Is the room suitable to your tastes, or would you like another? I have not such a room fit for a Lady the likes of you, but I would do everything I possibly could to honour your presence, my Lady..."  
  
He would have babbled on all night, but Dawn held up her hand to forestall the barrage of words coming at her. "Please stop. It's all good, I'm comfy enough here, just like my friends. Although..."  
  
"Anything I can possibly do, Lady," Butterbur interjected with a nervous smile.  
  
"Did my brother have a favourite room here? If he did, I wouldn't mind having a bed in Estel's room, stupid as it sounds."  
  
Butterbur looked a little apprehensive. "I could have Nob fix the room Strider stayed in when last he was here, if that is indeed your will, but my Lady, I must advise you stay under the protection of the rest of your party here. The room is in another wing, and it would grieve me if any should attack the sister of the King- well, I still can not see Strider sitting on a throne and all- whilst under my hospitality."  
  
Dawn just rolled her eyes and patted Me'ahyanda, still sheathed at her hip. "I got all the protection I need, man. Just fix the room up and it'll all be sweet."  
  
Her request granted, Dawn left the Hobbits and Gandalf and went to bed. They stayed in Bree for one more night after that, and most of the citizens crowded into the common room of the Inn to see the travellers and hear their stories.  
  
* * * * *  
  
When they reached a certain point on the East road, Gandalf took leave of them to visit Tom Bombadil who, Dawn soon learned, had aided the Hobbits when they were just leaving the Shire.  
  
Frodo hesitated, wanting to see the cheery Bombadil again, but Gandalf urged him on with words laced with warning. "If I were you, I should press on now for home, or you will not come to the Brandywine Bridge before the gates are locked."  
  
"But there aren't any gates," said Merry. "Only the Buckland Gate, and they'll let me through that at any time."  
  
"There weren't any gates, you mean" Gandalf corrected. "I think you will find some now. And you might have more trouble even at the Buckland Gate than you think, but you'll manage all right. Goodbye for now, but not yet for the last time, dear friends."  
  
In the blink of an eye, Shadowfax had been turned off the road and disappeared in the direction of the Barrow-downs, racing like a wind from the North.  
  
"So- likes the hasty exit," Dawn noted.  
  
"Well here we are, just four of us that started and Dawn with us. One by one, we've left the rest behind and it all seems like a dream that has slowly faded," Merry commented after Gandalf and Shadowfax vanished.  
  
Frodo shook his head. "To me it feels more like falling asleep again."  
  
"Well, we'd best be off," Merry announced with a wink. "Time for Dawn to come and fall in love with Buckland."  
  
"And so she may," Pippin replied, smirking back. "That is, until she lays eyes on the House of the Tooks!"  
  
It was after nightfall when, they reached the Brandywine, which was barred just as Gandalf had cautioned them. The Hobbits knocked and yelled through the gate, but were refused entry by a voice shouting back.  
  
"Can't you read the notice; NO ADMITTANCE BETWEEN SUNDOWN AND SUNRISE!"  
  
"Is that a trick question?" Dawn asked Pippin who rolled his eyes grimly whilst Sam answered the voice.  
  
"Of course we can't read the notice in the dark! And if Hobbits of the Shire are to be kept out in the wet on a night like this, I'll tear down your notice when I find it!"  
  
A flurry of activity ensued behind the gate at Sam's threat and a crowd of Hobbits with lanterns gathered round in no time. Some of them, the four Hobbits outside recognised and tried to convince them to open the gate. But they all seemed scared of some 'Chief up at Bag End' and still refused entry, however apologetically.  
  
Finally having enough of the frightened Hobbits, Merry and Pippin climbed the gate, drawing out the 'Big Man' from his guard house. It was Bill Ferny and Merry wasted no time in relieving him of the keys and evicting him from the Shire. Sam was pleased when his pony, Bill, who he had found again in Bree, gave the retreating ruffian a kick with his heels and, despite the protestations of the Hobbits at the gate that it was unlawful, and the lady travelling with them was a stranger, they demanded board for the night.  
  
Dawn spoke sparingly, only a few polite words which she hoped would do a little to ease the nerves the Hobbits clearly had at the prospect of more of the 'Big Folk' as they called humans, in their lands. The Big Folk had given the sleepy Shire nothing but trouble for a year now. While her friends listened with dismay as the others spoke of the ruin that had come to the Shire almost as soon as Frodo had sold Bag End to Lotho, she slid into a meditation-like state that Tara had taught her. Tara had told her it would relax her, and allow her to centre her energy, but Dawn soon found that she was able, presumably another key-power, to bend her trances to her will, almost like a vision. She could not, however, visualise the future, only the past, and only if she had been there at the time. She used to manipulate it to replay all her favourite moments in Sunnydale, like having the best parts of her life recorded on a private video just for her. It had very much kept her sane with vivid memories of her mother, at the worst of times.  
  
Now she took her mind back to all the battles she had been a part of since she had come to Middle-Earth fighting side by side with her brother and her friends, but instead of assessing herself, she focused her energy and watched Aragorn closely. She studied every move he made, down to the flicker of his eyes while he sized up opponents and allies alike. She gathered as much information as she could about what made her brother the leader he was. Dawn knew she did not have his natural talent, but she could at least draw on his experience and wisdom to help her friends fight for their homes.  
  
She shook out of her trance to find Pippin happily feeding large handfuls of paper into the meagre fire, which he informed her were the lists of rules which had been nailed to each wall of the little guard house.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next day the group decided to head straight to Hobbiton and set off at as brisk a pace that the ponies of the Hobbits could handle. None of them missed the excessive clouds of smoke wafting into the atmosphere from many points across the land.  
  
As evening fell and they were passing through a small village called Frogmorton, they came to a barrier on the road, accompanied by a board which said 'NO ROAD'. Behind the barrier stood a large, but pathetic looking group of Shirriffs.  
  
The five travellers exchanged amused smirks before Frodo spoke, feeling inclined to laugh as he did so. "What's all this?"  
  
The Shirriff-leader then told them they were arrested for gate- breaking, tearing up rules, assaulting gate-keepers, trespassing, sleeping in Shire buildings without leave and bribing guards with food.  
  
Dawn snorted. This was way funnier than the time she had gotten caught being a complete kleptomaniac at fifteen. That really wasn't funny at all, at the time.  
  
"And what else?" challenged Frodo languidly.  
  
"That'll do to go on with," said the Shirriff-leader.  
  
"I can add some more, if you'd like it," Sam said. "Calling your chief names-"  
  
"Like ass-clown," Merry interrupted, at the very same moment that Pippin called out, "He's a buttmonkey!"  
  
Sam continued without missing a beat. "Wishing to punch his pimply face, and thinking you Shirriffs look like a lot of Tom-fools."  
  
"It's the Chief's orders that you come along quiet. We're going to take you to Bywater and hand you over to the Chief's Men; and when he deals with your case you can have your say. But if you don't want to stay in the Lockholes any longer than you need, I should cut that say short, if I was you," the Shirriff told them.  
  
The five travellers could contain themselves no longer. They all burst out laughing. Finally Frodo had recovered well enough to speak again.  
  
"Don't be absurd! I am going where I please, and in my own time. I happen to be going to Bag End on business, but if you insist on going too, that is your choice."  
  
The leader had no choice but to push the barrier aside. "Just don't forget I've arrested you."  
  
"I won't," Frodo promised. "Never. But I may forgive you."  
  
They refused to go any further that night, but when they set out late the next morning, after taking their sweet time to get ready, they made the Shirriffs march in front of them much to the delight of the villagers.  
  
One old gaffer made a joke about the arresters becoming the arrested, and two of the Shirriffs moved towards him menacingly. But before they could lift a finger against the Hobbit, Merry had them ordered back into position.  
  
Then the travellers set their rides at a pace too fast for the Shirriffs to maintain, and eventually they were too tired to keep up with the ponies. When Merry informed them that they could come along in their own time, but he and his friends would be continuing now, the leader ruefully reminded them that he would not be answerable for their breaking arrest.  
  
"We shall break a good many things yet, and not ask you to answer," Pippin promised, before wishing them all luck and trotting on with the others.  
  
It wasn't long before they were met with six large, glowery men trying to cut them off. When they argued over the fate of Isengard's servants, one of the ruffians laughed.  
  
"When I see one of the King's messengers, I'll take notice, perhaps," he mocked.  
  
"How about his sister?" Dawn shot out, just as Pippin stepped forward, drawing his sword in a flash of silver. As his cloak swept apart, the silver tree of Gondor on his chest was exposed.  
  
"I am a Messenger of the King," he said, hearing the ring of steel as Dawn, Merry and Sam drew their swords with him. The ruffians turned and fled, but they blew loud horns as they went.  
  
"Wusses."  
  
Frodo still hung back, sad and thoughtful. He knew his friends were preparing for another battle, but he was disheartened at the thought of the very last blood of the War of the Ring being spilt in his homeland. He warned them that no Hobbit had ever killed another on purpose in the Shire, and no matter what, they could not break that peace.  
  
He wished that nobody would be killed at all, if it was possible, but deep down they all knew the ruffians wouldn't scare so easily again. Even so, they quickly discarded the idea of taking cover; Hobbits had being doing that in the Shire for far too long, and it was time for them to reclaim their lands.  
  
Sam took off for Farmer Cotton's farm, since Cotton was the sturdiest Hobbit in the Shire, and something of a leader, while Merry blew on a silver horn that Eomer and Eowyn had insisted he take from Rohan.  
  
Dawn watched, amazed, as Merry blew a tune that Frodo explained was the Horn-cry of Buckland, and called for the Hobbits, who came scurrying out of the woodwork, or so it seemed to her.  
  
Cotton and three of his boys had gone ahead of Sam, and by the time he had returned more than a hundred Hobbits had gathered in the village, armed with anything and everything. A bonfire had been lit as well, just because it was not allowed. The Shirriffs had finally arrived to find barriers at both ends of the village, and most of them joined the revolt at the first opportunity.  
  
Cotton had joined the returning travellers to help them plan the next move and give them some more reliable information on the happenings of the Shire. He mentioned there was a bigger Chief settled in Bag End now, and the ruffians called him Sharkey, but very little was known of him. He also told them that there were possibly three hundred ruffians invading the Shire, and that Pippin's family, the Tooks, had fought with them to the point that they were now left alone deep in their home, the Great Smialls.  
  
Straight away, Pippin took six Hobbits who had ponies and rode away to bring his family into the fray. The rest stayed to prepare for the imminent attack from twenty Hobbiton ruffians closing in on them.  
  
The plans were laid and when the ruffians reached the barricaded road, there were Hobbits lining the streets on both sides. They moved the barricade aside for the men, and when they went through, quietly closed in behind them.  
  
Cotton stood alone at the bonfire, warming his hands, but when the men advanced on him, they suddenly found themselves surrounded by innumerable Hobbits. From the shadows of the fire stepped four Hobbits in strange clothing, and a young woman.  
  
Merry stepped forwards, Dawn backing him with Me'ahyanda resting easily in her hand. They calmly ordered them to surrender, but the leader foolishly rushed Merry. He fell dead with four arrows in him, courtesy of archers concealed above.  
  
* * * * * 


	19. Chapter 18: Finishing the Task, aka Home

They rested the night ahead of making their next move. The rest of the ruffians had given in after their leader fell, and had been taken prisoner in on of the huts. The travellers had gone back to stay with the Cottons, except for Merry, who was out all night scouting and making preparations, and Dawn, who insisted on helping him.  
  
The pair arrived at Cotton's Farm at about ten in the morning, with warnings of a large band of ruffians about four miles away, and closing fast. Luckily, though, Pippin arrived sooner than they did, bringing a hundred from his own homestead and Merry and Dawn had enough sturdy Hobbitry to plan their attack.  
  
Again the ruffians charged into the fray without any sense of precaution, and again the Hobbits surrounded them. But this time the men were not so easily defeated. They tried to break out of the surrounding ring of Hobbits, and the ensuing skirmish resulted in seventy dead ruffians and twelve prisoners. But the worst blow to all those in the battle was that nineteen of their friends had been killed. They were later buried together on the hillside, with a great stone listing them all and a garden surrounding their resting place.  
  
When there was some sense of order restored after the chaotic morning, the travellers and Cotton took two dozen Hobbits as escorts and set off on foot for Bag End, the source of the trouble ever since Lotho had taken Frodo's place in the Hobbit-hole. At the sight of Bagshot Row, now nothing more than a sand and gravel quarry with the party tree cut down in the field just beyond, Sam burst into tears.  
  
Dawn patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Guess the place isn't how you left it, huh?"  
  
A harsh peal of laughter drew their attention to the filthy miller, Ted Sandyman, leering at them from over a small wall. Drying his tears, Sam rounded on him, heaping abuse on the other Hobbit, but Sandyman was not impressed.  
  
"You can't touch me," he spat. "I'm a friend of the Boss'."  
  
As Frodo advised Sam not to waste any more words on the fool, Dawn sauntered up to the wall. Very deliberately as he watched in confusion, she poked Sandyman in the arm and waited a few seconds for a reaction.  
  
"Hmm," Dawn mused when it became apparent that nobody was going to take issue with the welfare of the dirty little being before her. "Funny, I think I just did touch you, but where's the cavalry, little stinky-man?"  
  
She turned on her heel and walked with the others to the door of Bag End, Frodo's old home. A crowd of Hobbits came out of the huts and holes littering Hobbiton and followed them to the gate.  
  
They searched the wrecked house, but found no signs of life other than vermin. They stood in the small foyer, Dawn hunching her shoulders a little to keep from bumping her head into the candle chandelier, and looked at the damage.  
  
"If I had known all the mischief he had caused, I would have stuffed my pouch down Saruman's throat," Merry muttered.  
  
"No doubt, no doubt," sneered a voice from the doorway. They all whirled to find Saruman standing there, his black eyes glittering with malice. "Welcome home."  
  
Sam's face burned as red as his shaggy hair with rage and they all stared at him with grim expressions etched on their faces as Saruman taunted them for a while, gloating about his accomplishment in ruining their once beautiful land.  
  
"Well if that is what you find pleasure in, I pity you," Frodo told him. "Go at once and never return!"  
  
The Hobbits crowding in the gate spoke up angrily at hearing this. "Don't let him go! Kill him!"  
  
But Saruman just laughed at them once more before calling to Wormtongue, who crawled out of one of the ugly huts spoiling the garden. He was crooked and bent, and moved almost like a dog, forced to grovel at Saruman's feet.  
  
"To the road again, Worm!" Saruman commanded. He turned to go, but as he passed close by Frodo, a hint of steel glittered in his hand as Saruman stabbed a knife into Frodo's chest. The blade snapped on the hidden mithril coat and before anyone could blink, Dawn had clotheslined Saruman to the ground. Sam stood over him, sword in his hand.  
  
"No, Sam! Dawn! Don't kill him, I don't want his to be slain in this mood. He was once great and noble, we should not dare raise our hands to him. He is fallen, his cure beyond us, but we can only let him go and hope he finds it elsewhere."  
  
As Saruman was allowed to rise, he stared at Frodo through eyes riddled with wonder, respect and hatred all at once. "Wise and cruel, you have robbed my victory of sweetness and now I must go in bitterness and in debt to your mercy. I hate it and you!"  
  
He turned and walked down the lane and the Hobbits grudgingly made a path for him. After a moment's hesitation, Wormtongue moved to follow.  
  
Frodo called out, inviting Wormtongue to stay since he knew of no harm that had been done in the Shire by his hand and Wormtongue was half prepared to stay, when Saruman loudly interrupted that his servant had been the killer of Lotho and gave him a swift kick in the face.  
  
As if that kick was the last straw, Wormtongue's eyes glazed over with wild hatred and he rose to his feet. He pounced on Saruman, jerking his head back and slitting his throat before running off down the lane with a yell. Before Frodo could recover from his shock to remind everyone no to kill, three Hobbit-bows twanged and Wormtongue was no more.  
  
A grey mist gathered around Saruman and rose up into the air. A cold wind from the West soon blew it into nothingness, and all that was left was a withered old corpse which Frodo covered over with some of Saruman's robes.  
  
"To think that the last stroke of the War should fall on the steps of Bag End," sighed Frodo. Dawn sensed the disquiet in his voice that had been growing for some time and studied his face intently.  
  
* * * * *  
  
With the scouring of the Shire completed, the community turned to cleaning up the mess. The day after Saruman and Wormtongue's death, all the Hobbits the ruffians had been keeping prisoner were freed, and the ownership of Bag End was restored to Frodo.  
  
Frodo agreed to act as deputy Mayor for the time being and helped organise the cleansing of Hobbiton. Every brick laid by the ruffians was torn down and use to rebuild and repair homes that had been damaged. Sam, with the help of a box of Lothlorien soil Galadriel had given him, led the way in restoring the lush greenery the Shire once boasted. He replaced the party tree with the silver nut in the centre of the box, and was rewarded the next Spring when a silver-barked Mallorn tree, the only one known outside Lothlorien, sprung up out of the earth.  
  
Stores full of food, pipeweed and beer were found all over the place and shared amongst the communities. Merry and Pippin took on the task of driving the last of the stray ruffians to the borders and when Dawn was not out in the forests helping them, she was in Hobbiton carefully monitoring the progress of the growing relationship between Sam and Rosie Cotton.  
  
"Aren't they *cute* together," she giggled to Frodo as they sat in the garden together, watching a newlywed Rosie and Sam wandering hand in hand through the field below.  
  
Frodo smiled at her. It had been a couple of months since Dawn had come and helped the Hobbits rid the Shire of the evil presences, and the land was healing nicely thanks in large part to the untiring efforts of the community. Dawn and Frodo had been living in Bag End together, and each found that their initial affinity for each other had only strengthened with the time they spent together. As soon as they were married, Sam and Rosie had come to join them, living in Bag End. They kept Frodo company on the occasions where Dawn was away, keeping her promises to Merry and Pippin by visiting each of their homes.  
  
"You miss him, don't you?" Frodo asked, knowing Dawn instinctively understand him.  
  
"Yeah, I do," she admitted softly. She had been dying to see Legolas again since about five minutes after they'd parted ways, but she didn't want to talk about it. So she changed the subject.  
  
"It's not going to be long now, is it? Before we go, I mean."  
  
Frodo nodded. Somehow, without him even telling her, Dawn had known Frodo was going to travel to the Grey Havens, and that would be when she would meet up with her husband again.  
  
The months passed, quickly and happily. Occasionally Dawn received a letter from Legolas, telling her how much he missed her and loved her, and describing his travels with Gimli in such a vivid way that Dawn almost felt as if she'd been there.  
  
As soon as the roads were opened and the King's messengers had started carrying news back and forth, Dawn had sent a letter to Aragorn letting him know what had come to pass in the Shire. Aragorn had responded with commendations to all involved in the scouring of the Shire, and sent his, Arwen's, and all their friends from neighbouring lands' love.  
  
Sam had been elected Mayor of Hobbiton, and Rosie had fallen pregnant and given birth to a beautiful golden-haired baby girl whom they named Elanor. For the first six months of her life, little Elanor enjoyed not only the tireless love of her parents, but she was completely doted on by her Aunt Dawn and Uncle Frodo.  
  
It seemed as though the entire Shire had settled back into its blissful sleep, but Frodo had grown restless. He received a letter from Elrond of Rivendell and passed it on to Dawn. A day later, they asked Sam to accompany them on a short trip, only a fortnight or so, to escort Dawn out of the Shire.  
  
Rosie consented and so Sam set out with the two friends, the vague feeling in his heart that neither of them would see the Shire again.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was only a matter of days before the trio was met with a company of Rivendell and Lothlorien Elves travelling on the same path of them. When they recognised Bilbo and Gandalf amongst the Elves, Sam was left with no doubts of what was coming.  
  
The group rode together all the way to the Grey Havens. When they reached the docks, a lone figure stood silhouetted against the soft grey mist.  
  
"Wow, they really are grey," Dawn commented as she dismounted Lightfoot. She grinned and broke into a run onto the docks, and almost crashed straight into the figure who emerged from the mist.  
  
Luckily, Legolas was well prepared. He swept his wife up in his arms and braced himself against her weight as she threw herself into him, kissing him madly. They were so engrossed in each other that they missed the hoofbeats of two ponies trotting briskly up to the assembly.  
  
"Oh, not again," Merry moaned loudly. "Would you two please give it a rest?"  
  
Everyone chuckled and Dawn and Legolas forced themselves to separate. Dawn rolled her eyes at Merry. "Like we all don't know you've been up to the same thing with Estella Bolger," she retorted, grinning at the way the Hobbit's cheeks flushed red at the mention of the pretty Hobbit lass he had been courting.  
  
Pippin had been crying a little, but he laughed through his tears. "You are always failing to give us the slip, Frodo, but his time it was Gandalf himself who gave you away."  
  
"The ride home would be better with three than one alone," Gandalf nodded in Sam's direction. "Well, here at last, dear friends, on the shores of the Sea comes the end of our Fellowship in Middle Earth."  
  
Gandalf boarded the waiting ship with the Elves, leaving Frodo on the docks to say his last goodbye. Legolas and he smiled and wished each other joy and peace before Frodo turned to Dawn, still seemingly glued to her husband's side.  
  
Before he could speak a word, Dawn wrapped him in a tight hug. "I know," she whispered in answer to everything he was just about to say in regards to the understanding between them. She kissed the top of his curly brown head and stepped back.  
  
Frodo then kissed Merry and Pippin, and lastly Sam before he turned and left his world behind. The others watched in silence as the ship sailed away until it was a tiny blur that disappeared over the horizon in the dusk.  
  
As night came on, they all turned their thoughts towards heading home. Dawn was becoming anxious to finally see Mirkwood, now the time was so close, and Legolas had had word from his father not long ago, who wrote to hurry their homecoming.  
  
As they were readying their horses and ponies to leave, a sudden thought occurred to Merry. "Hey, Dawn, you've been in the Shire for a year and you never answered our question; Buckland or Tookland?"  
  
Pippin pricked his ears up, obviously interested in the answer.  
  
Dawn grinned. "I love them both," she replied honestly.  
  
"But there has to be some part of the Shire that was your favourite," Pippin reasoned, unsatisfied with her first answer.  
  
"Hobbiton."  
  
"And for that, none can blame you," Sam piped up, speaking for the first time  
  
since wishing Frodo farewell. When their chuckles subsided, the Hobbits finally said their goodbyes to Dawn and Legolas and turned their ponies homewards. In the privacy of the misty dock, Dawn and Legolas shared a long, sweet kiss. At length they broke apart and looked at the world around them, bathed in ghostly moonlight. "I guess it's time to go home," Dawn murmured, spurring them into action.  
  
They travelled easily over the distance, allowing Arod and Lightfoot to set a relaxed pace as they enjoyed the simple beauty of each others' company. It was several weeks before they entered the forests of Mirkwood.  
  
Dawn tried not to stare too obviously as the palace came into view. It settled in amongst the trees as easily as the buildings in Rivendell, the size beauty of her new home was beyond her comprehension. Only one word came to her to describe the place: majestic.  
  
Legolas watched the reactions flitting across Dawn's face at the first sight of her new home, and was pleased to know that she would love Mirkwood, and she could be happy here with him. He led her through the large double-doors of solid oak that served as the entryway and into his father's Throne Room.  
  
Thranduil knew of their approach, and stood at the ready to greet his son and his daughter-in-law and give them the welcome they deserved. Dawn bit back a giggle as the entire room of people bowed to her. Thranduil kissed her cheek.  
  
Legolas caught her hands in his and blue and green fused together as their eyes locked. "Welcome home, Princess."  
  
Dawn smiled and kissed him gently. The word rolled around deliciously in her mind. Home.  
  
A/N: Yup, there it is, it's finally over! I did my best to give you all the best writing I could possibly put into this fic and I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much to everyone who read, and especially to those of you who reviewed and kept me going. And thanks to Sonofgloin, the first person to ever read this fic and who restrained the urge to vomit all over it, thereby giving me the courage to start posting. For those of you interested, at some point this story will have a sequel and I have the plot scribbled out for it, it's just a matter of me getting it onto the page and onto the net. I can tell you this now, though, it is much, much darker and very depressing, and involves a lot about life on the other side of the portal i.e. Sunnydale. Don't want to give too much away now, but I will try to write it as quickly as I can and get it out to see what you all think. Thanks again for the support, you all rule! ~Anoron. 


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